For Ever and a Day
by oz diva
Summary: A/U What if Marilla Cuthbert forgave John Blythe and their relationship continued on its expected path? What hurdles will they encounter in their marriage? *warning possible triggers regarding death* How does their life change after Anne Shirley comes to live with them? ***on hiatus***
1. Chapter 1

**In Unrequited Love I explored what caused Marilla Cuthbert and John Blythe to break up, just what went wrong between them? Now in this new story** _For Ever and a Day_ **I'm turning that on its head. Instead of quarrelling and remaining estranged for the rest of their lives, John and Marilla make up and continue their relationship. That of course has ramifications. If they have children together then a certain dashing curly headed young man is never born. Will a certain redhead ever make it to Avonlea? Read on to find out.**

 **This story starts part way through Chapter 6 of Unrequited Love.**

 **For Ever and a Day** *

... "Oh, you're just being annoying now. You think I'm ugly and stupid." She yelled over her shoulder at him and ran off.

"No Mar, I don't think that …" He trailed off, she had run out of earshot.

Marilla ran back home sobbing and ran smack into her brother Matthew. He caught her as she brushed past him. "Hey, Marilla what's wrong? Did John say something to upset you?"

"It's nothing Matthew, leave me be."

"It doesn't look like nothing, you're crying." He produced a somewhat dirty handkerchief from his pocket. It smelt of his sweat and cow. She took it gratefully nevertheless and blew her nose. "Come into the barn, so we can talk." She followed him in and they sat on a pile of hay. "What happened?"

"Oh, it's just boys can be so stupid sometimes. Sorry Matthew, obviously I don't mean you."

He waved the slur on his gender away. "Go on."

"He as good as told me I was ugly last week, not as attractive as Jane Pye and Mary Gillis."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it that way, Marilla. I know for a fact that he thinks you're the prettiest girl in Avonlea."

She looked at him in amazement, "He does? Well today he told me I shouldn't be friends with Rachel. How dare he presume to choose my friends, Matthew?"

"You say it often enough Marilla, you know she's a terrible gossip." He held up his hand to stop her, "No, I don't mean you can't be friends with her. You don't have to do everything he suggests, but you have to admit she is a busybody."

Rachel called by the next day, Marilla didn't know how she did it, but she knew about the quarrel. Marilla couldn't tell Rachel she was one of the topics they'd argued about, so the dispute seemed particularly trivial.

* * *

John walked by a couple of days later, whistling a jaunty tune, Marilla heard him before she saw him. Marilla hated to quarrel, so she left the washing and ran out to him before he disappeared. "John!"

He turned to see her, she was dishevelled, her hair awry and her arms covered in soap suds. Privately he smiled, only Marilla Cuthbert would be so unashamed as to speak to him in such a state. The rest of the village girls would have wiped off the suds first and fixed their hair. It was one of the things he most admired in her. "Marilla?"

She paused for a moment trying to catch her breath. "Sorry for losing my temper the other day. I had a talk with Matthew and he was able to reassure me. I thought," she giggled nervously "that you were saying that the other girls were prettier than I."

His eyes widened in amazement, "Oh, no, that's not what I meant at all. I mean you asked me and" he paused, thinking back "I guess I can see how could have taken it that way. I'm so sorry. I surely didn't mean that. I mean yes, they are handsome, in a boring sort of way. Nothing like you though."

Marilla smiled, pleased to have that misunderstanding out of the way. "So, where are you off to?"

"I'm just going into town, I have to run a few errands for my mother. Can you walk with me?" Marilla looked back sadly. "Sorry I have to finish off the washing. I told Mama I would help." She glanced down at her arms, noticing that they were chilly as the damp water dried on her skin. "Oh, look at me, I'm all sudsy. You must think I look a fright."

John smiled at her. "Well I did wonder, but I guessed it was washing day. Say Marilla, would you come with me to the next church dance? I had such fun last time we went. We could make up a foursome with Rachel and Thomas if you like? I know you and Rachel are good friends.

"Sounds lovely, John. I would really enjoy that, what's the date again?" Marilla already knew the date, she wondered if he did.

"I think it's the Saturday after next, isn't it," she nodded. "All right, I had better get going, Ma needs the supplies I'm fetching. See you soon."

She waved him goodbye and watched him walk up the lane listening to the tune he was whistling, until he was out of earshot. She felt so much happier about the previous week, it had been weighing on her mind. Uh oh! She remembered the washing; her Mama would not be pleased if she didn't get in on the line quickly. It had to dry before sundown.

* * *

Over the dinner table that night her Mama questioned her about the gossip she had overheard in town that day. "Are you and John Blythe quarrelling Marilla?"

"No Mama, we're fine. We had a little misunderstanding, but we've sorted it out now. He's asked me to the next church dance, Mama. May I go?"

"Of course, you may darling. Have you got anything to wear?" The women had a brief discussion about clothes while the men ate their dinner in silence.

The next day she paid a visit to Rachel. Ever the gossip, Rachel was eager for news of her tiff with John. She almost looked disappointed when Marilla told her it was all sorted. "I guess I was being a bit sensitive."

"Maybe it was your time of the month, Marilla?"

Marilla batted her chum, "Rachel!"

"Well I know I can be a bit delicate at that time myself Marilla. A bit inclined to take offense at innocuous comments."

Marilla considered her comment and counted back on her fingers. "No, I don't think that was it. I'm not due for a few days yet."

"Well I'm pleased you settled the disagreement, has he invited you to the next Church dance?"

Marilla smiled, "Yes he has. I just have to work out what I'm going to wear. Mama is helping me. John wondered if you and Thomas would like to accompany us, we could make a foursome. It would be jolly." Rachel smiled, she thought the four of them could have a bit of fun together.

* * *

*William Shakespeare, As You Like It.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tis in my memory lock'd***

Marilla vomited again. This morning sickness was getting ridiculous. She had been so happy to get pregnant at last, but she hadn't counted on feeling so unwell _all_ the time. She lay in bed, the bowl between her legs in case the nausea came upon her again. If she moved she felt the nausea return, so the only thing for it was to stay where she was, the housework would have to wait. She had ample time to think.

* * *

Her mind flitted back to that moment when she and John last argued. She couldn't even recall the reason. She adored him, they fit together perfectly. Too perfectly sometimes, she thought, glancing at the bowl again, feeling the bile rise in her throat. This time she was able to swallow it back down. Once they had reconciled they had a brief courtship, but it was inevitable that he would ask her to marry him.

That had been a perfect day. He had called at Green Gables one fall afternoon to ask her to come for a walk. She had a spell between the mopping and starting dinner, so her mama gave her leave. They talked about this and that. John Blythe could always make her laugh, she had to give him that. He made some jokes and they giggled their way along the road. A carriage had passed by and he made some inappropriate comment about the lady's hat and that was that. Marilla was laughing fit to cry. The passengers were critically looking back at their antics as they passed.

He took her hand afterwards, and they walked down a tree lined path, with red and orange leaves falling like a gentle rain. He stopped at a particularly beautiful tree and to her surprise popped down on one knee, took her left hand in his and said "Marilla Cuthbert, I love and adore you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife." She just stood and stared at him for the longest moment before saying "Yes John, I will." He stood up then and they kissed. His soft lips still tasted of apples, no wonder given his background. They walked back to Green Gables, in rather a daze. The world seemed to have shifted on its axis and all around the beauty of the day caressed them.

Constance watched them return from their walk, hand in hand. Was that a glint she saw on her hand, perhaps a diamond, catching the afternoon sun's rays? She rushed out of the house and threw her arms around Marilla, whilst looking at John. "Have you some news for me?" David heard the commotion and came out of the barn. "So, you've done it have you?"

"Did you know about this, David? And you didn't see fit to tell me?"

"John and I had a little talk a week or so back, he asked me for my permission and of course I granted it. It was a private man-to-man talk, Connie. There was no need to tell you." Constance shot him a glare of immense proportions, so that he was sure he would be in the doghouse that night, but she turned to Marilla with a big smile on her face. "Let me see the ring properly darling." It was a single diamond surrounded with tiny amethysts on a slim gold band. "This will go perfectly with the amethyst brooch when I pass it down to you. You are clever John."

The wedding was set for the following spring. Marilla waited impatiently for it to happen. She was keen to get on with the next stage of her life. John had found them a little house to live in that was not too far away from their parents'. Neither of them wanted to move far away and John planned to continue to help his father with the apple orchard.

* * *

Marilla shifted in her bed, she was getting a bit stiff lying in the same position, but unfortunately that was a bad idea, and she was quickly taking advantage of the bowl between her legs. There was little enough to bring up, and it tasted revolting. John had popped back inside and heard her retches from the kitchen. He entered the bedroom with a tray with some dry toast and a cup of water. She couldn't bear to eat anything much else at this stage. He swapped her bowl for a clean one and put hers out in the hallway. "Oh Mar, I hate to see you like this." He said as he wiped her chin and placed the tray next to her. "Try and have something to eat. If it's any consolation, Ma said being ill is a sign of a healthy baby."

"Not really." Marilla gasped, still feeling bilious.

"Do you want me to stay?" Marilla shook her head. She would be fine soon, she hoped. She didn't need company.

* * *

She settled back down to her reminiscence. Before they got married, it was Rachel and Thomas' turn. They got married in January. It was a cold, snowy day, but the Lynde house was sturdy and warm. Marilla was bridesmaid of course. Rachel had a beautiful egg shell blue dress with embroidered flowers cascading over her bodice and down her skirt. Marilla had helped her get dressed and kept her temper through Rachel's small tantrums.

Afterwards Rachel told her all about her wedding night, in rather more detail than Marilla wanted to hear, in actual fact. As any bride would, she was slightly worried about her own wedding night, but the way Rachel described it, it sounded like quite good fun. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

Their own wedding was beautiful. The snow had all melted by that time and the spring flowers were just beginning to bloom. Her Mama had made her a stunning dress, in a soft green, with leaves embroidered upon it. John told her later that he had never seen anything like it. He took great delight afterwards in gently removing it from her body, slowly undoing each button and kissing her lips, her earlobes, her fingers, as each button was released. For her part she watched entranced as he quickly shucked off his suit and they came together as a married couple at last.**

They had settled into their married life as naturally as if they had been together all their lives. She adored being married to him, cooking and cleaning for him seemed far less of a drudgery than it had been when she did it for her family.

After about a year she was delighted to find she was pregnant. That had been a cause of excitement at first, but now, feeling ill all the time was no picnic. Rachel had had her first baby, a little boy. Marilla didn't think she had suffered at all. He was a gorgeous little fellow and Marilla made the most of holding him, she needed all the practice she could get. Now all she had to do was get through the next eight months or so and she'd be holding her own bairn. She couldn't wait. She eyed the toast beside her. She wasn't remotely hungry, but she knew she would feel the better for it.

* Hamlet, William Shakespeare  
** I've given Marilla and John some great honeymoon scenes already, if you need you can look them up in _At Long Last_. As this is rated T, this is as far as I'm going here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Exquisite Pain**

 _This chapter is set about three and a half years after the last._

Marilla felt like a whale. It was uncomfortable at this stage of a pregnancy. Rachel always complained about it, and she recalled feeling a similar way when she was pregnant with Mary. Her ankles had swollen and she swore she could feel water sloshing in her feet with every step.* She had terrible heartburn and it was impossible to get comfortable in bed, if she slept on her back she couldn't breathe. She had to get up to pass water several times a night. She recalled that from the first time too, only then she could sleep during the day if she felt exhausted.

Now she had to get up with Mary who, at three, couldn't be left alone. She would spend the day tending to her, but the household chores went undone. She felt slovenly as she eyed the dust on the floor, but she was unable to do anything about it. John told her not to worry, but she had her Mama come over to help her out sometimes. Marilla would sit down on a chair watching Mary play, while her mother mopped or laundered.

"Just move your feet dear." Constance requested as she mopped under Marilla's chair. She remembered this time herself, feeling enormous and useless.

"I'm just so very fat, Mama. I hate it."

"You're not fat, Marilla, you have a new person in there. It's actually a wonderful time."

Marilla waddled out to pass water for the third time that afternoon. The baby was pressing down on her bladder. It wasn't easy standing back up again either, in fact she needed assistance. "Mama, can you help me please?"

As Constance helped her up, she felt a slight tear and more liquid dribbled out to land on the floor next to the pot. "Oh!"

Constance looked down and saw the fluid. Her eyes opened wide, "Is that what I think it is?"

"I … I think so."

"Wonderful, looks like you'll be losing some weight shortly then darling." Constance ran out the door and called out, "John, the baby's coming. Please fetch the midwife?" Turning back to her daughter, she asked "Where would you like to be now, darling?"

"I think I'll walk for a bit Mama."

John rushed up to the house. He had instructions to fetch the midwife and to deliver Mary to the Lyndes. They had agreed to mind her for a couple of days. "I'll be back as soon as I can, will you be all right here?"

Constance was holding Marilla's hand, she looked over at him, "Yes, we have it all in hand John." John looked at her amazed, they seemed awfully calm. For his part his stomach was doing little flip flops. He saddled the horse, collected Mary and with her in his arms, galloped down the road.

"That's got them out of the way." Constance said, glancing back. Marilla couldn't talk, she was busy with a contraction. "Just pant and breathe through the pain, darling." Marilla was clasping the back of a chair, moaning and swaying back and forth. The pain subsided, and she looked up. "How did that feel?" Constance enquired.

"Intense."

Constance smiled, "You're doing wonderfully darling. Just a few more hours like that." Marilla grimaced at her and continued to walk around the kitchen.

* * *

Presently the midwife, Mrs Stewart, arrived with John in tow. Sending him out, she bustled in and assessed the situation. "Where are we at Mrs Cuthbert?"

"She's had a few contractions and her water has broken, Mrs Stewart."

"I'd just like to examine you Mrs Blythe, if I may? We'll just get you up on the bed."

"We were going to use the bed upstairs, but her waters broke down here. I doubt you could make it up the stairs now, could you Marilla?" Constance remarked.

Marilla shook her head, sweat beading on her brow.

"Are you having another contraction?"

"Uh, uh." She panted and swayed back and forth, using the back of the chair for support again.

"We'll wait until it's over. How far apart do you think they are, Mrs Cuthbert?"

"I'd say about ten minutes."

"It'll be a while yet Mrs Blythe." Once the contraction subsided they walked her over to the spare bedroom which was conveniently located on the ground level.

"Now we'll just help you get undressed, then please lie down on the bed for me Mrs Blythe, I want to examine you, see how far along you are."

It was always odd to have anyone other than your husband touch you down there, but Marilla had no choice but to put her trust in the midwife. She figured she must have done it many times before. Marilla drew her knees up and flopped them down to give Mrs Stewart access. Mrs Stewart inserted a pillow under Marilla's bottom and inserted her finger into her vagina to have a feel of the cervix. "Yes, it needs a while yet. I'd say you're about a half an inch dilated. You've got a beautiful big stomach there Mrs Blythe, what are you hoping for?"

"Well we have a daughter already of course, so we would like a son. But honestly so long as it's healthy I don't care a … oh … oh … oh" She breathed heavily as the pain came upon her again.

* * *

Several hours passed, Marilla was in a great deal of pain. Time seemed to bow and contract. There was little space between the contractions in which to recover and they were intensifying. Mrs Stewart had a crease in her brow. She examined Marilla again and then motioned to Constance to follow her to the kitchen. "I'm a little worried that things aren't progressing. She's still only around two inches dilated."

"Do we need the doctor?"

"Yes, I think that's for the best. I'd like him to have a look at her. Will you ask Mr Blythe to fetch him?"

She nodded. If an old hand like Mrs Stewart was worried, then Constance took her seriously. She hurried out to the barn to find John pacing up and down in the gloom. "John, dear. There's nothing wrong, but Mrs Stewart would just like some advice from the doctor. Could you fetch him, please?"

"The doctor? Is she? She's not going to lose it is she?"

"Now don't panic dear, don't over think it. Just go and get him for us, please."

The horse was still saddled from before, so John was out the barn and racing down the road before Constance had finished her sentence. She looked after him, there was no one faster than an anxious man when his wife was in labour.

Walking back to the house she was apprehensive for her girl. Labour was a tricky time, so many things could go wrong. She could hear Marilla screaming in agony and she ran the final yards to the bedside.

Taking up a damp cloth she wiped Marilla's sweaty brow and soothed her, telling her she was doing a marvelous job. Marilla for her part was barely aware, she was in her own world, fighting the pain with barely a moment's respite between contractions.

Mrs Stewart examined her again, placing her hand up Marilla's vagina again to feel the baby. "I think it's breech." She looked at Marilla and said "This baby is upside down, Mrs Blythe, it wants to come out bottom first, that's why it's so painful. Marilla nodded, then closed her eyes and panted some more. She was exhausted. "Mama" she sobbed "Mama, I don't think I can do this."

"Shh, shh, you're doing so well darling. I know it's agonizing, but it's too late to back out now."

* * *

The women were pleased to hear Dr Cooper's feet on the doorstep. He made his way over to the bedside. "Good evening Mrs Blythe." Marilla looked at him, panting, unable to speak. He turned to Mrs Stewart and motioned for her to follow him. "What's the story?"

"Contractions are almost continuous now, but I think the baby is breech."

He frowned, "I better examine her then, thank you for sending for me."

Walking back to the bedroom he knelt next to Marilla and gently told her what he was about to do. Marilla had felt embarrassed having Mrs Stewart examine her before, but she couldn't care less now. She just wanted this over. "Just lie still now Mrs Blythe." That was easier said than done as yet another wave of agony rolled over her. The doctor inserted his hand and felt around.

He looked up at the midwife and nodded his head. "Yes, it's breech. You're right as usual. She's fully dilated now." Turning to Marilla he said gently "Mrs Blythe the baby is upside down. It wants to come out bottom first instead of head." Marilla nodded, looking alarmed. "I need to you to push when I tell you to, and stop when I tell you, all right?" She nodded again. "Now I know this is extremely painful, but it should all be over soon, and then you can meet your baby. Mrs Cuthbert, I shouldn't give her your hand to squeeze, she's liable to break it." Constance snatched her hand back, she was willing to do anything for Marilla at this point, but her intact hand would be needed soon enough. "All right Mrs Blythe, I need you to push hard."

"Arrrrgggghhhhhh" Marilla screamed as she pushed, putting all her energy into it. She strained and pushed as hard as she could for as long as she could, but she had been laboring for some time now and that wasn't as long as she had hoped. She stopped, panting with the effort. "Very well done, Mrs Blythe. You're doing splendidly. Now have a little break. I want you to clasp your hands to your bottom." She looked at him blankly so Mrs Stewart helped her. "Now, when you feel the next contraction I need you to push again, with all your might."

It seemed to Marilla that she spent the rest of her life pushing the baby out. She would rest briefly then push, rest then push. Eventually she heard the doctor, kneeling down between her legs, yell "The bottom, I can see your baby's bottom, Mrs Blythe. Not long to go now." She lay back panting, but they encouraged her to give it another go. Again, she pushed with all her might, although her might was not very strong by this stage.

Eventually she felt a slithering between her legs and the baby was born. She lay back exhausted as the midwife gathered it up for the doctor to examine. She was oblivious to the commotion around her, but after a minute noticed that it was very quiet in the room. She looked at her mother, but Constance was not looking in her direction. She was looking worriedly at the midwife and doctor who were doing things to the quiet baby. "Mama" Marilla whispered, "what's wrong?" Constance turned to her and at that moment they heard the baby cry. "Oh, thank the Lord." Constance prayed.

"Here you go Mrs Blythe, here is your baby boy!" The midwife placed the baby on Marilla's chest and she finally got her first chance to look at him.

He was perfect, his tiny little face all scrunched up, straight dark hair and ten tiny toes. His ten tiny fingers outspread made his tiny hands look like little starfish. She was entranced. All her memories of pain disappeared in that moment. It had all been worth it to see her little boy. "Good evening little one, how lovely to meet you."

"We're just going to deliver the afterbirth and get you cleaned up Mrs Blythe, then we'll bring your husband in." The doctor announced. Marilla looked up at him smiling.

Constance went out to the barn. "It's a boy, John. You have a son." John burst into tears "I was so worried. I've been praying out there for what feels like days." He followed Constance inside and knelt at Marilla's side. She showed her son to his father and he took him into his arms. "What shall we call him?"

"James" Marilla whispered, utterly spent, "I want to call him James."

* * *

* This happened to me for the last six weeks. It was the most disconcerting sensation.

She wasn't breech, but I gave birth for the first time 16 years ago on Tuesday. Thankfully I had the benefit of modern medicine.


	4. Chapter 4

I'd like to thank **MrsVonTrapp** and **Kslchen** for their invaluable feedback as I worked though these next few chapters.

 **Dreaming new Dreams**

Marilla looked down with love at baby Jamie cradled in her arms, he had soft downy straight dark hair, unlike the curls of his older sister Mary and a little round head. His sparkling dark eyes were slightly slanted in his round flat face.

He would cry with hunger because he found it difficult to nurse. With Constance's advice she tried various nursing positions. In the end after some trial and error, she found lying on her side in bed with him supported by a pillow helped. He wouldn't sleep unless she held him in her arms. He could cry all night long if left in his bassinet. John took to sleeping in the spare room to get a bit of rest. They sent Mary to stay with her grandmother until they got him settled.

John was adamant that something was wrong, but Marilla wouldn't hear of it. "He's just his own little person. He doesn't have to be the same as his big sister." He was her baby, she adored him, though way deep down she worried that something was the matter. She hoped if she didn't voice it, it would just go away.

For all that Jamie was a beautiful baby. He took a long time to learn to smile, but then did it all the time. She fell in love with his dark twinkling eyes. Mary was devoted to him. She adored having a little brother. He would watch her cavort with his big brown eyes and gurgle with laughter at her antics. She would fetch toys for him and was a great help to her Mama.

* * *

As time went on Jamie failed to develop as his big sister Mary had done. It took him longer to learn to sit, crawl and then walk. He took years to toilet train and was never completely dry at night. Having been so slow to nurse, eventually it became the ultimate soothing technique and she never weaned him. They took him to the doctor who had no answers. "I'm sure he will come good in time Mr and Mrs Blythe, you just have to be patient, children develop at different times."

At one he wasn't sitting, at three he wasn't walking; Marilla was still carrying him everywhere. At four he was still incomprehensible to anyone other than Marilla. They had a basic sign language sorted out, so she knew when he was hungry or thirsty or wanted to breastfeed, or just needed a sleep. He had about five spoken words, up, ya, no, mama but no sentences. He understood simple instructions, but rarely obeyed them. Still she hung onto the doctor's words, _they develop at different times_.

John was getting frustrated by her attitude. "Marilla" he said to one night, "We have to see someone, we need help. Please don't repeat that same old line. There's something very wrong with our little boy. You have to admit it." Tears came to Marilla's eyes, she knew he was right. Jamie wasn't developing properly, and she was helpless. They took him back to the doctor who declared that he thought James might be feeble-minded, a cretin.* Marilla and John wept together.

Deep down, though he'd never voice it, John was sad that Jamie was his only son. He adored his little man of course, he was a sweet little boy. He was exceptionally affectionate, running up to everyone to give them a big hug and lots of kisses. Always up to mischief though. You expected that with a small child of course, but the problem was that Jamie's behavior at six was no better than it had been at two.

They had to watch him like a hawk or he'd be playing with cow manure or his own; burning his hand on the stove; leaning over to look in the well; stomping on the eggs; sticking his hands down his diaper, or taking it off entirely; running around naked. Marilla was a stickler for that; she lived in fear that a neighbour would pop by and see him with no clothes on. He had been found over at Green Gables, having run there on his own to visit his Uncle Matthew. He just turned up naked one day and Matthew had put a shirt on him and delivered him back to his frantic mother. He had a fascination with fire; he stuck his hands into every flame he saw, never learning that it would cause him pain.

At church Marilla overheard the parishioner's whispered comments: _That boy should be placed in a home, he's doing no good here_. He did have a tendency to whoop during the sermon it was true, which upset some people. John would have stayed at home with him, but Marilla had determined that Jamie needed religious instruction as much as anyone.

Their parents loved their little grandson, but they too were worried about his development, or rather lack of it. They agreed with Marilla and John, they didn't want to put him in a home, away out of sight. He was a lovable little thing, but he was a lot of work. They all found it frustrating that they couldn't understand a word he said. Marilla had the ultimate soothing technique for when he became upset, but only she could do it.

* * *

Marilla was feeding Jamie his oatmeal one morning when John appeared in the doorway. John rolled eyes. "For Goodness sake he's five years old Marilla, he should be feeding himself by now." Marilla gazed at her round-faced son, oatmeal smeared on his lips, "He had a go, I'm just helping him. Aren't I sweetie?" Jamie gurgled at her and banged his spoon on the table.

Later she admitted to John that while she encouraged Jamie to feed himself, oatmeal was problematic. It dried on his skin and was almost impossible to remove, "So, you see, it's easier for me to feed it to him, than to have to scrub his skin afterwards."

"All right, I'm sorry I snapped, love." John bent over to give Marilla a kiss.

* * *

Rachel Lynde was busy with her own brood. She had four children to Marilla's two. Although they were a handful they were normal, for which she thanked the Good Lord. Poor Marilla had her hands full with little Mary and poor wee Jamie. Rachel saw her fair share of Jamie. Quite often their children would play together as the mothers drank tea and chatted. She talked about him to Thomas whenever they had been to visit. "I don't know Thomas, Jamie just doesn't seem to be improving. Marilla is too soft on him, that's what."

Her children sometimes asked about Jamie. They were confused when they couldn't understand the way he talked. Sometimes they would ask her to translate, but she was as mystified as they were, though Marilla seemed to understand him well enough. Rachel never liked to pry, and she certainly wouldn't openly judge Marilla in her time of hardship, but she did wonder sometimes if Jamie wouldn't be better off in a home for the mentally defective. It would make life easier. Marilla was set dead against that notion though, so for the sake of their friendship, Rachel kept her thoughts to herself.

* * *

"Mama, Mama, look at me, look at me!" Mary was balancing on the vegetable-garden fence, very proud of herself. Marilla glanced over to see her elegantly jump down. She smiled wearily. She really was very proud of her daughter but lacked the stamina to express it. She had less vigor than usual as she had just found out that she was pregnant again. She already felt guilty about Mary. She needed more attention than Marilla had to give. All of her energy was taken up with Jamie. She hoped Mary loved her little brother, but she guessed that it wasn't easy for her either. Marilla had noticed how much Mary liked to spend time with the Lynde children. They adopted her as their _sister_ and she fit easily into their family.

* * *

"This little piggy went to market"  
Jamie was sitting on his John's lap giggling in anticipation

"This little piggy stayed at home"  
His foot tensed

"This little piggy had roast beef"  
He curled his toes up

"And this little piggy had none"  
His whole body tensed

"And this little piggy went wee wee wee all the way home."  
As John tickled his toes and ankles, Jamie screamed with laughter and squirmed on John's lap as his whole body convulsed with giggles. "Gai gai"

Marilla looked on fondly. "He wants you to do it again" she translated.

John looked her sharply, "Yes I know, he always wants it again."

Jamie settled down and sat back on John's lap for another go,

"This little piggy..."

* * *

* I have labelled Jamie feeble-minded or a cretin according to the wording of the day, in fact he has Down Syndrome. That term was not adopted until 1965, and even the earlier name, Mongolism was not used until 1866.


	5. Chapter 5

**Jamie**

Jamie had created a small puddle in the kitchen after he took his diaper off and weed and was giggling as he stamped his feet in it. The delicious sensation of warm liquid on his feet and ankles delighted him. He was contrite when his mama scolded him, but he didn't really understand what he'd done wrong, it had been a fun game after all.

He loved his mama. She was his everything. She was the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing at night. She fed him his breakfast, lunch and dinner and never minded if he made a mess. She would just sigh and wipe it up. Sometimes he had a go himself, but the spoon was tricky and didn't behave.

Mama was obsessed about being dressed all the time. Jamie loved the sensation of being naked. He didn't like the constricting nature of his clothes, taking them all off just felt right, so whenever her back was turned he would do just that. Laughing at her face when she saw him. She would say "Oh Jamie, you're naked again, you're a little heathen." Jamie didn't know what a heathen was, but if they were naked all the time he'd like to be one.

He had this excellent toy between his legs. It was soft and squishy and stretchy, sometimes it even grew and became hard. He liked to play with it. It felt nice. Papa had one too. He'd seen it on bath days, but his Papa's was bigger. His sisters seemed to be missing theirs. If he thought about it, he was sad for them. Mostly ihis toy was covered with his diaper, but he could take it off for better access when he felt the need. Mama didn't like that though. She scolded him when he did, she would say "Jamie, you must never take your diaper off." Usually he ignored her. He figured if she knew how nice it felt, she couldn't really mean what she said. It was true that sometimes he had an accident in bed, but that wasn't so bad. It was like having a short warm bath and he usually got a proper bath afterwards as well. So, there were lots of good reasons to take it off. He didn't have the words to explain that to his mama though and that made him sad.

* * *

When he was very upset he would sign 'drink' and Mama would lie down with him in his bed and lift her blouse and do something complicated with her underclothes and give him her breast to suckle. That was heavenly. Lying next to his Mama with her beautiful smell, the comfort of suckling and tasting that delicious sweet warm milk as it went down his throat. Each gulp as delightful as the last. He would gently knead her breast with his fingers, as he drank. It calmed him down and he would fall asleep with her nipple still in his mouth; the last mouthful of milk spilling down his chin. When he was little he could sit in her lap to do it and that was the best, with her arms around him, her breasts made a soft pillow; but he was a big boy now, so he couldn't fit. It was almost as nice doing it this way.

Mama was so pretty. Prettier by far than the other ladies he saw at church. They were always looking crossly at him when he was just trying to make the dull morning more fun. He liked making loud noises and flapping his arms like a bird when he got bored of looking at the colourful windows. They would look at him smiling with their mouths, but cross in their eyes. He didn't trust them.

He saw his grandmas at church. They were nearly as nice as Mama. They would bend down to hug and kiss him. Granny Cuthbert was Mama's mama. She always smelt of cookies while Granny Blythe smelt of apples. He told them apart by their scent, rather than their appearance or names. He thought of them as Granny Cookies and Granny Apples.

Papa had a deep voice and a scratchy chin, particularly late at night. Papa would gather Jamie up in his arms when he was little and throw him up in the air. It was scary, but fun and he would shout in delight. Papa didn't do that anymore, he told Jamie he was too big. Papa smelt of the farm, Jamie could smell apples on him when he came in for dinner. They had a ritual around the water spout, Papa would wash, and he would wash Jamie too, calling him his little man. Sometimes he would go out to the barn with his Papa, but he was forbidden to go on his own.

One day he did go there all by himself, he found the big draught horse and went into the stall to say hello. He curled up by its feet for a little nap and was surprised to see his Mama in tears as she wakened him and picked him up to take back to the house. The horsie had been very friendly. He waved to it from over her shoulder as they walked away saying "Bye bye horsie" and blew it a kiss.

* * *

He had to share Mama's milk when his little sister arrived. He and Mary been sent away to his Granny Apples. They had explained that he was getting a new brother or sister, but he didn't really understand. He cried for his Mama at night and his Granny slept with him. Eventually Mama and Papa introduced to a little dolly thing. He didn't know what it was. It was noisy and wet, and it nursed with his Mama. That was his spot and he didn't think he should have to share. His Mama gently told him that she was his baby sister, like Mary, but little. That he was her big brother and he had to care for her. She asked him to be a big boy and help her because having a baby was a lot of work.

Jamie was upset at that, he was her little baby, not this thing. He screamed when she told him and was pleased when she gave the thing to Papa so she could calm him down, but her milk tasted different somehow, he didn't like it. That thing could have the milk if it tasted like that, it didn't know any better.

Slowly but surely the thing grew and turned into Eliza. He didn't notice the difference and couldn't remember a time when she wasn't his beautiful little sister. She stopped nursing and he got his Mama back and her milk tasted nice again.

"I probably should have kept him weaned," Marilla confessed to Rachel, "but there's nothing like it for calming him down when he's upset." Rachel sipped her coffee, privately she agreed with the first half of Marilla's statement, but it was true to say that Jamie did have terrible tantrums. It did look a bit odd to see her still feeding such a big child, but then poor Jamie would always be a baby in some respects.

* * *

Mary and Eliza were fun. They went to school most days. A mysterious place, he didn't know what happened there. He'd been there for a Christmas pageant once and was very excited to see his sisters on stage and wanted to join them up there. He got a bit over excited that night, jumping up and down and squealing. Mama had to calm him down in the usual way, though she found them a quiet spot to do it in. It was better if they were alone anyway. Papa carried him home afterwards.

His big sister Mary could get a bit impatient with him, she would yell "Go away" and shut the door in his face, leaving him standing on the landing alone. His little sister Eliza was friendlier, they could play together for hours. They would play tea parties or doctors or with wooden blocks. Sometimes she would read him a story. If Mama wasn't looking, he would put his hand down his diaper. It was a pleasant combination, his sister's voice and the nice feeling of his toy.

Sometimes he visited his Uncle Matthew. He smelt of sweat, he had yellow hair, unlike he and his Papa who had black hair. Uncle Matthew was very patient with him and would let him stay by his side in the barn. Sometimes he got to play in the hay and that was fun. It smelt nice up in the hayloft. Uncle Matthew once made him a little man out of straw to play with.

Uncle Matthew even let him talk to the cow while he milked. The cow had such a lovely velvety nose and Jamie liked to talk to her. He would get a squirt of cow's milk straight from the teat. He would laugh when Uncle Matthew's aim wasn't right. It tasted quite different to Mama's, not as sweet, but it was still yummy. Uncle Matthew still lived with his grandparents at a house they all called Green Gables. They would have lunch together and the grownups would tell him stories about when Mama was a little girl. He found them hard to believe, surely his Mama had never been little?

Mrs Lynde was a round lady who was a friend of Mama's. She smelt like warm bread and apple pie. He saw her a lot, either she was visiting them, or his mama was visiting her. Mrs Lynde had so many children he lost count. He could never remember all their names. He was like their little plaything. He liked going to their house. Sometimes his mama would drop him off there and he would spend the afternoon playing with her children. That was fun, but he always missed his Mama and Mrs Lynde didn't understand the drink sign if he got upset.

* * *

Wintertime was the best fun. Mama would dress him up in warm clothes. The girls would take him outside to play. They made snowmen, had snowball fights and went sledding. Jamie usually rode between Papa's legs because he would fall off when he tried it himself. Sometimes they made snow angels, Jamie could make just as good a snow angel as anyone in the family. He was aware that he wasn't as good as the others at lots of things, not that it mattered to him.

* * *

That was Jamie's world, filled with lots of nice people. Mama was the bestest though. He loved his Mama and told her so at night "Wuv Mama" and she would say it back and kiss him. He felt all warm and safe and snuggly then. If he signed 'drink', she might let him have a little bit to go to sleep on, but not always. She might make a breathy noise first and say, "This is the last time, mind". Then Jamie felt very special and loved. He would fall asleep, safe in the knowledge that Mama and Papa loved their little boy.


	6. Chapter 6

I'd like to thank **Matthew Cuthbert** for providing the name of this chapter.

 **It Takes a Village**

Marilla sat on the dock at Barry's pond watching her salty tears drip into the water, the little droplets creating tiny concentric rings in the water. There had to be something wrong with her. She couldn't stand being around her son anymore. She loved him more than life itself, but she had to have a break.

* * *

The girls came home from school. Some days Jamie went to visit their grandparents to give their Mama a spell. They knew not to rush noisily into the house, their mama more often than not might be napping. So they walked in quietly and got themselves some afternoon tea. John followed them in and went to check on Marilla. She wasn't in the bed, and she wasn't in the sewing room. John called out "Marilla, Marilla, where are you?" There was no answer.

The girls looked at him "Where's Mama?"

"I don't know?"

He ran outside and called her name again, still nothing. Perhaps she had gone to fetch Jamie from his mother? He told the girls his plan and ran off down the road. She wasn't there, and she wasn't at her parent's place either. By now he was panicking. It was unlike her to disappear, especially at this time of the day. James should be coming home soon. He asked his mother to keep him for a little longer. His father, along with Matthew and David Cuthbert began searching, while Constance minded the girls. She would be there to greet Marilla should she turn up.

* * *

It was David who found her, curled up in a little ball on her side on the dock. She was weeping. "Oh Papa" she cried as he took her into his arms. "Papa, I don't think I can do this anymore."

"They're all so worried about you sweetheart. Can I take you home?"

She shook her head. "No, I can't. I can't go home. I'm so ashamed, I'm lacking as a mother. I can't bear it. I'm so tired Papa."

David rubbed her back; his heart was breaking for his little girl. She had too much on her plate with Jamie, the two girls, and running the household. "Let's go back to Green Gables then, we'll put you to bed." She nodded at that and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She held his arm as they walked home.

Green Gables was peaceful. David tucked her into bed and closed the door. She rolled over and snuggled into the covers and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost immediately.

* * *

David went back to see the family. They were all there, having returned although they hadn't found her yet and were still frantic with worry. "It's all right, I found her. She's sleeping at Green Gables."

"What's the matter? Where did you find her? Why isn't she here?"

"I found her at the pond. She needs a break. I'll call the doctor tomorrow."

John looked at his mother, "Can you keep Jamie for a while longer?"

"Of course, darling, we're always happy to have him." Jamie was a great deal of work, and she found it hard to keep him out of mischief for a day a week. She thought she had been doing enough, but if she stopped to think about it, Marilla had him day in and day out five days a week. On her days off she was doing housework. Essentially, she was working seven days a week, week in and week out, with no end in sight. No wonder she was exhausted.

* * *

The girls stayed at home with John, Marilla stayed at Green Gables and Jamie went home with the Blythes. It wasn't ideal to break up the family, but it would have to do for now. Constance and David walked home. "I'm worried about her Connie, she feels she's useless as a mother just because she needs a break." Constance looked at him, tears in her eyes.

"She's far from that. She has so much on her plate. We'll have to do more to help her."

"Just now she needs to sleep, I think. At least Green Gables is quiet. Shall I fetch the doctor?"

"No, we'll leave her tonight. She can see him in the morning."

* * *

Marilla was surprised to find the house empty when she woke up a little while later. She couldn't recall the last time she had been completely alone, it must have been before Mary was born, so maybe twelve years? She sat down at the kitchen table. Her mind was blank, she was just so exhausted. She startled as she heard footsteps on the veranda. "Good afternoon Marilla," Matthew welcomed her, "shall I get us some afternoon tea?'

"I'll do it."

"No, I'm under strict instructions to let you rest, Papa said."

"Where are they?"

"They're at the Blythe's to work out how they're going to help you."

"Matthew, you must think I'm such a fool."

"What?"

"I'm useless, I'm a fraud and an awful mother."

Matthew grasped her hands at that and reassured her. "Marilla, I am in awe of you. You know we all adore young Jamie, he's the apple of all our eyes, but we all admit he's hard work. You've managed so well for all this time. When he comes to me for an afternoon, I can't get anything done. I have to watch him like a hawk. We have a nice time, I enjoy his company, but it's not like I can be productive. Don't get me wrong, I love having him around. But you? You have him most of all and you're trying to run a household with the girls too. I honestly don't know how you manage it."

Marilla thought that might have been the longest speech he had ever made. He poured the tea, and they drank it together with a piece of pie.

"Now you make me feel guilty for forcing him on you."

"No, no, not at all, we have a lovely time together. I'd miss him if he never visited, but I know I can't plan much those afternoons. Pa knows, he doesn't expect anything to get accomplished. But that's all right he's our kin. It takes a village and all that."

They had finished their tea and pie and Matthew stood up "Best get back to it. Will you be all right?"

"I think I'll go back to bed, I really am exhausted."

Matthew watched his beloved sister walk up the stairs. He hoped the family could help her out, she looked defeated.

* * *

Jamie's grandparents were discussing the situation over at The Blythe farm. They had left Jamie with Rachel. "She's exhausted" Constance declared. "I thought I was helping, but when you think about it, none of us were doing enough."

Jane Blythe nodded in agreement. "I think we need to help with the cooking and housework too."

"Yes, we could take turns. Is there anything you men could do, make the house safer perhaps?"

"We could build a fire guard, he's obsessed with fire, isn't he?" David suggested. "Might lessen the accidents."

They decided on a roster, the women would take care of laundry, clean and provide meals. The men would build a fire guard and add a few extra safety features to keep Jamie safe.

* * *

The Blythes were looking after Jamie. He was confused about staying there the night and not seeing Marilla. "Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama" he cried over and over, as his Granny explained that he was staying with them overnight. It would be a lovely adventure. In the end, she had to sleep with him in his bed.

Jamie's Mama had gone away, and he had to stay with his Grandma Apples. He didn't like that one little bit, he cried all night long. Grandma climbed into bed with him, but she wouldn't let him drink. That was what he needed almost as much as his Mama. He was signing for it and crying, but she didn't understand. Eventually he fell asleep, tears staining his cheeks.

It was worse when it was just his granny who was there when he woke up. Where was his Mama? She did not appear that day, nor the next one either. In fact, though he went back and forth between home and his grandma's house, he never got to see his beloved Mama. He couldn't understand where she had gone and why they wouldn't produce her for him? They were being nice enough he supposed, but he just wanted Mama back. He missed her, her kisses, her smell, her pretty face, her laugh, her voice, her milk.

John explained to the girls that their Mama needed a rest and was staying at Green Gables for a couple of days. "Doesn't she love us anymore?" Eliza asked. "She loves you so very much darling, she just needs a little break. All mamas are allowed a holiday every once in a while." After a simple supper he sent the girls to bed. He sat by the fire smoking a pipe ruminating on what had gone wrong.

* * *

David went out after breakfast to fetch the doctor. Constance filled him in on the events of the previous day. The doctor knocked on the bedroom door and went into see Marilla. She was just waking up. He sat pulled a chair up beside the bed.

"Mrs Blythe, I hear you've been poorly. What seems to be the matter?"

Marilla burst into tears at the doctor's question. "I'm a letdown as a mother, I can't cope with my own little boy.

"Mrs Blythe, you're not a letdown. It takes a lot of effort to keep him safe, I'm sure. You've been working so hard, something had to give. I want you to rest, completely rest. I don't want you to lift so much as a finger. You're to stay here to sleep and recover."

"But what about Jamie? What about the girls?"

"Your family will help. That's what they're here for. You are not to concern yourself with the children. The main thing is to get you well rested before we can think about you going home. I'll be back in a couple of days. Until then, sleep."

He found Constance hovering in the kitchen. "I need her to have complete rest. No cooking, no cleaning and definitely no children."

"What do you think is the matter?"

"She's overwhelmed with it all. She needs more help going forward. Looking after that boy is a full-time job. He should be in a home really. But she won't hear of it, will she?" Constance shook her head. "Well then she needs all the help you can give her."

Marilla slept all day. Constance kept an eye on her, but essentially left her alone. At dinner Marilla put on her dressing gown and came down for dinner. She didn't talk while her family chatted quietly amongst themselves about farm business. Marilla ate her dinner and then sat still.

Constance led Marilla to the parlour and sat her on the couch by the fire with a blanket over her lap, she sat next to her and drew Marilla's head onto her lap to stroke her hair. Very quietly she said "The doctor said you think you're a failure because you're not coping at the moment darling. I want you to know nothing could be further from the truth. So many mothers would have sent Jamie away by now. But you have cared for him so wonderfully, mostly on your own, with two other children and a house to mind. I'm not surprised you're a bit broken. All I'm surprised about is that you kept going for so long."

Marilla's tears ran down her nose and onto her mother's skirts. "You're going to stay here with us for a little while, darling. We're going to take care of you and the Blythes will take care of the rest of your family. After you're better, we'll sort something out, so you're not doing all the work." Marilla nodded, as her tears continued to fall.

* * *

Eventually after what seemed like forever and ever, Mama returned to Jamie. He was angry at her for leaving him, but though he tried to show it, he couldn't keep up the act. He ran into her arms with sobbing and promised to be a good boy. "Just because it's a special occasion," she said as she undid her dress. Oh, there it was, her yummy milk splashing down his throat once again, it had been too long. He put his hands down his pants to increase the happiness and she was so joyful she didn't stop him. That was the bestest time ever and ever.

Her parents instituted some changes around the house, Constance and Jane Blythe took over the laundry and cooking giving Marilla more time to be a mother and to look after herself. The men built several guards to keep Jamie from hurting himself. Best of all, she knew she had their unequivocal support if she needed it, she just had to ask.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to **AnneFans** for providing the inspiration for a scene at the end.

 **Innocence Lost**

Mary Blythe was twelve years old and considered herself quite mature. She lived in a house on Prince Edward Island with her parents and her little brother and sister. They were a pretty normal family, except her little brother Jamie was a bit unusual. He didn't behave like other boys his age. He ran around like a wild thing and her parents couldn't control him. She knew other people couldn't understand Jamie when he spoke, but she understood him well enough. Anyway, his needs were simple, so long as he got his own way in everything, he was happy.

At school she often fielded questions about Jamie. Her classmates saw him misbehaving at church and were mystified that her mother seemed to let it slide. She would just lead Jamie out of the church if he got too noisy. They knew he was different, sometimes they teased Mary about him and she was torn between agreeing with them and defending him.

Mary had to admit that she found Jamie annoying. You couldn't play games with him, because he'd scream if he lost. He insisted on having all the best toys, not that they had many. Her mother always took his side in an argument, because it was easier she supposed, but it wasn't particularly fair to her. She was supposed to let him have his way all the time. Her mother was too sad and too tired to argue. She would just snap at Mary to behave herself and to let Jamie have his way.

She liked to visit the Lynde family as often as she could. The children there were about her own age and they behaved and reacted normally. The Lynde girls and she could retreat to a bedroom to discuss girly things. Mrs Lynde was a kind lady who always had a smile for Mary. She'd ask her how her family were faring and would give her a hug if she mentioned the latest Jamie incident.

When it all got too much, sometimes Mary would seek advice from her grandmothers. Granny Blythe was a kindly soul. One afternoon, after a particularly annoying morning, Mary visited their farm on the way home from school. She figured her Mama wouldn't notice if she were late home, though just in case she told Eliza where she would be.

She knocked on the kitchen door and walked in to find her grandmother just pulling some scones out of the oven.

"Why, Mary, how lovely to see you dear. Would you like a scone?" Mary nodded, they smelt divine "and some milk?"

They sat down at the kitchen table. Jane Blythe often worried about Mary, she thought it must be difficult for her at home, so she was pleased to see here that afternoon. They sat and enjoyed the scones for a little while and Jane waited for Mary to speak. Eventually she said "Granny, can I talk to you?"

"Yes, of course you can dear."

"It's just, Mama is so tired all the time and Papa is busy…"

"Yes, I'm sure they are."

"So, I don't have anyone to talk to."

Jane waited. Mary gave a deep sigh then said in a rush "I'm finding it hard to live with Jamie."

She looked up expecting her grandmother to be cross, but instead Jane reached over to hold her hand. "I'm sure you are darling."

Mary had been feeling terribly guilty about her mixed emotions regarding her brother, so to confess to someone and not to be in trouble for it, was a huge relief. "It's just I love him and all, he's funny and he makes us all laugh sometimes, but…" Jane smiled encouragingly at her "he's always doing stupid things and making a scene. Then Mama and Papa are sad, and they get cross with Eliza and I even when we haven't done anything wrong. They expect us to behave, while Jamie gets away with everything…" She broke down in tears then, as the emotion of the situation got away from her. Jane led her to the couch in the parlour, so she could give her a hug. "I feel they love him more than me or Eliza. We haven't done anything wrong have we?"

Jane held her poor granddaughter as she sobbed, then said "Darling, you haven't done anything wrong at all. Your parents love you and Eliza so very much, but we all know Jamie is different. He doesn't, he can't, always understand the rules and that makes caring for him very difficult. They can't expect him to behave like you and Eliza will. That's hard for the two of you, I know. Deep down your parents know too."

"Then why don't they say?"

"Because, darling, they hate to admit it to themselves, and you know they are just exhausted. Caring for Jamie is a full-time job, particularly for your mother. She just doesn't have the energy for anyone else, even you and Eliza. I know that's not ideal, but it's true."

"Then why doesn't she send him away? He could go to a home where they care for children like him, I've overheard the people at church mention it."

"Mary, those homes are anything but. I can't imagine they really look after children like Jamie. As hard as it is for you all, Jamie is best off here. Your Mama loves him too much to send him away. She would never forgive herself if she did that.

You know you are always welcome to come here if you need a break. There's nothing wrong with that. Tell Eliza too, you are both always welcome here, or I'm sure at Green Gables."

Mary nodded gratefully. It was good to know there was somewhere she could escape to, if needed.

* * *

One day Jamie decided he had to see his Uncle Matthew, maybe he'd squirt some cows milk into his mouth again, that was fun. He waited until Mama's back was turned and he was out the door in a flash and running down the road.

Down the track he was surprised to see some big boys who he didn't know, they were big and hairy, and they had the makings of a beard like Papa's after a long day. Maybe they'd be new friends for him, so he smiled at them and was about to give them a hug.

The boys Silas and Eli Pye looked at the little boy. They thought they knew most people in town, but they didn't know him. Silas greeted him "What have we here, Eli? Hey kid, who are you?"

Jamie answered, but he was incomprehensible.

"What are ya, a daftie?"

Silas shoved Jamie and he was caught by Eli.

Jamie started to cry, and the boys laughed cruelly. "What are ya, a cry baby?"

"Cry baby, cry baby" they jeered as they shoved him around. He stumbled and fell to the ground, he lay there frightened, but that was no fun for them. So, they hauled him back to his feet. "Why can't ya speak cry baby?"

* * *

Marilla noticed that Jamie was nowhere to be seen. She ran around the property calling his name, but there was no answer. John heard her and joined the hunt to no avail. "He wouldn't have gone over to Green Gables, would he?" John suggested. He went to saddle the horse, but Marilla had gathered her skirts and was already running down the road.

She rounded a corner and saw her boy on the ground with the awful Pye ruffians standing over him threateningly. They never knew what hit them. She flew to his defence like a whirlwind. Gathering a very relieved Jamie up in her arms, she rounded on them and told them in no uncertain language that she would be talking to their parents, that it was despicable to bully an innocent and that she hoped God would have mercy on them, for she wouldn't. They scattered instantly.

"Come now Jamie. Let's take you home." She carried him back, the shock of what she had done catching up with her. She hadn't felt anything at the time as adrenalin had taken over. Now as it wore off, she was shaking. They bumped into John who had finally caught up with her. He flung himself off the horse and gathered them both up in his arms. "What happened? Is he all right?"

"It was those awful Pye boys. They were attacking him." John had a good look at Jamie who was still crying with shock.

They hugged and kissed him and told him what a brave boy he had been. Marilla comforted him with milk when they got home. She lay down next to him that night stroking his hair as he drank again, thanking her lucky stars she had rescued him in time. She planned on making a visit to the Pye household the next day. She had some choice words for the boys' parents.


	8. Chapter 8

**Excel Aunt** you are a star for suggesting this format. Thanks so much. **Elizasky** and **Kslchen** your advice was invaluable too, thank you. Readers you may have grasped that we writers are always bouncing ideas off each other, this is such a supportive community.

 **A Problem Shared**

24 November  
Kingsport

 _Dear Mrs Blythe_

 _You don't know me, but I was given your address by Dr Cooper. He tells me that you've got a little boy who is quite the handful. My daughter sounds like she might be a little similar. We don't know what is wrong with her, but she has some problems. She can't speak and at six is not toilet trained. I don't usually talk to people about her because it is such a private thing isn't it. But Dr Cooper assures me you will understand, God willing._

 _We live in Kingsport, so it's unlikely we'll get to meet, but I'd love to chat by letter if you are interested._

 _Yours sincerely_

 _Mrs A Bartram_

* * *

1 December  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Dear Mrs Bartram_

 _What a delight it was to receive your letter. Dr Cooper is indeed correct; our children sound as though they are suffering similar afflictions. My son Jamie is 9. He is mainly toilet trained, though not at night, can barely talk and is short statured. He can understand simple instructions, but often chooses not to obey them._

 _I would be happy to correspond with you._

 _Yours Sincerely_

 _Mrs Marilla Blythe_

* * *

8 December  
Kingsport

 _Dear Marilla_

 _What an interesting name._

 _Jamie sounds like my Charlotte, although he's a bit older. Do you have other children? I've a younger son, Michael._

 _Charlotte screams when she doesn't get her own way, and as I can't understand her, that's quite often. She has quite a piercing voice too._

 _Last night she took her diaper off and wet the entire bed. I got a bit cross with her and she seemed sorry enough, but the laundry pile is quite high this morning._

 _Tell me a little about yourself, and where you live?_

 _Yours sincerely_

Mrs Alice Bartram

* * *

20 December  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Dear Alice_

 _My name is a perpetual trial to me. I don't know what my mother was thinking? There's not much to say about me. I live in a small farming community. My father was a potato farmer and my husband, John is an apple orchardist. We are never short of apples or potatoes hereabouts._

 _I have two daughters Mary is older than Jamie and Eliza younger. The 3 of them keep me on my toes._

 _I sympathize with you regarding laundry. Jamie loves nothing more than taking off his diaper at night, it creates so much extra work and as we know laundry is quite the business, particularly in winter._

 _Is Charlotte obsessed with fire? It seems I spend all day pulling Jamie's hands away from candles or the range._

 _Have you tried simple signs with Charlotte? Although Jamie does not have many spoken words, we have worked out some simple signs that he uses to get his message across. You might find it useful too._

 _Sincerely yours_

 _Marilla_

* * *

24 December  
Kingsport

 _Dear Marilla_

 _Merry Christmas to you and yours. The weather is terribly cold here, but when we're all sitting around the hot hearth it's not so bad. I love this time of year, so many good wishes and the love of Jesus Christ in our hearts._

 _We'll be going to my parents for Christmas Dinner tomorrow. I'm sure it will be a lovely day, God willing._

 _I've had a simple life too. My husband works at at bank here in Kingsport. My parents are elderly and live not too far away. An apple orchard sounds very romantic. I suppose it's beautiful in springtime?_

 _Sincerely yours_

 _Alice_

* * *

26 December  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Dear Alice_

 _Merry Christmas to you._

 _I hope you had a lovely day._

 _My family and I went to my parent's farm for Christmas Dinner. Green Gables is a beautiful property with a sweet little house. My parents and my brother Matthew were there as well as John's parents. We made a merry party. The grandparents gave the children small presents. The girls were delighted with theirs and Jamie received a lovely bouncy ball which he has been practicing with ever since._

 _My brother Matthew's present to me was time. At first, I was not sure what that meant. He gave me Christmas Day while he cared for Jamie. He sat next to him at the dinner table, and cut up his lunch (turkey, pickled beans, and mashed potato followed by Christmas pudding) and helped him eat. He made sure he didn't wet his pants when he got too excited, he played ball very patiently with him, because let's face it, Jamie is not very coordinated. Afterwards he took all the children out to build a snowman and to go sledding, carefully looking after Jamie all the while. Later in the afternoon he read Jamie a picture book._

 _It meant I could enjoy my Christmas day in a manner I have not since he was born. I must say it was the most treasured Christmas gift I have ever received. He is a sweet man, Matthew. He is terribly shy around women and as a result has never married. It is a shame, I think. He would have made someone a wonderful husband and he would have been a superb father._

 _Apple blossoms are pretty in the springtime and they make a beautiful carpet of blossom when they drop from the trees. There are only so many apples one can eat though._

 _Sincerely yours_

 _Marilla_

* * *

1 January  
Kingsport

 _Dear Marilla_

 _Happy New Year, may God's blessings surround you each day._

 _That sounds like a lovely Christmas. What a beautiful present your brother gave you, what a blessing to have a brother like him._

 _No, thank goodness Charlotte isn't obsessed with fire, that certainly sounds like a trial. Is he continually getting burns?_

 _Charlotte has a problem with her tongue, it's as if it's too big for her mouth, it's continually hanging out. This makes her chin and neck continually wet and causes sores. I'm forever wiping her. She wears a bib, but that gets wet too._

 _Signing sounds like a wonderful idea. I'll attempt to get some sort of communication worked out with that method, thank you for the suggestion._

 _Sincerely yours_

Alice

* * *

10 January  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Dear Alice_

 _The tongue situation certainly sounds difficult._ _  
_

 _I find I often feel guilty about the girls. I am so busy tending to Jamie, that I am neglecting their upbringing. I am sure they feel the lack of my attention. I wish I had more energy, or that there were more hours in the day. I don't know what I can do to remedy this though._

 _You asked about Jamie and burns. Yes, he always has a burn or two about his person. It seems as if he is always in tears about the pain caused by fire, and yet he never learns from his mistakes._

 _Sincerely yours_

 _Marilla_

* * *

24 January  
Kingsport

 _Dear Marilla_

 _I understand your feeling of guilt about your girls, I feel the same way about young Michael. He's never known a life without Charlotte and it can't be easy for him._

 _Charlotte ran away from the house today. We spent a good hour looking for her, calling frantically, though as she cannot speak, there was no way she could answer anyway. Eventually my husband found her curled up asleep in the carriage the Good Lord be thanked. I have never felt so relieved, but I can't keep an eye on her all the time._

 _Love_

 _Alice_

* * *

3 February  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Dear Alice_

 _I can commiserate regarding Charlotte bolting off. Jamie has done that on numerous occasions and each time it is a terrible concern. Once we found him asleep next to the draught horse and once he turned up at my parent's farm, without a strip of clothing. My dear brother, Matthew bought him back to us wrapped up in one of his shirts. I hugged and kissed him and told him never to do that again, but I doubt he understood me._

 _Recently he ran off down the road to my parent's house and after I noticed and ran off after him, I found him being assaulted by two local young ruffians. I sent them packing, you would have been quite surprised to see me swoop in. Poor Jamie was very distressed. I admit, I sometimes, well often, use nursing as a way to comfort him. I know I shouldn't do it, but there is nothing that calms him down so well. I nursed him when we got home, and he calmed down very quickly. I hope he will not be too traumatised by this terrible episode._

 _Love_

 _Marilla_

* * *

15 February  
Kingsport

 _Marilla dear,_

 _Goodness that sounds ghastly. Poor wee Jamie. I can imagine you swooping down like an angel of mercy to deliver your poor boy from evil, well done._

 _You mention that he turned up at your parent's farm naked. Charlotte strips off too. I hesitate to mention this, but she likes to play with her privates, if I catch her at it, I always stop her. But I suppose it feels nice. Every chance she gets, her hands are down her diaper._

 _I need to thank you for the signing advice. Charlotte and I have worked out a couple of signs to use together, one for thirsty and one for hungry and it's transformed our lives. Thank you a thousand times over, dear Marilla. It has been a wonderful development._

 _Love_

 _Alice_

* * *

14 March  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Alice dear_

 _My apologies for not replying to you sooner, it has been very busy here as it always is around this time of year._

 _Oh, Jamie is the same. You don't know how pleased (well that is not the right word) it makes me feel to know I am not the only mother of a child who is obsessed with their privates._

 _It was absolutely my pleasure to share the signing trick with you and I am delighted that it is working. Anything that makes our lives that little bit easier is always worth it._

 _Love_

 _Marilla_

* * *

2 April  
Kingsport

 _Marilla dearest_

 _We got into a bit of a mess the other day. Michael and Charlotte were playing together quite nicely, and I thought I'd pop outside to fetch some more water from the well. Well it was not to be, because as soon as I got out to the well I could hear laughter from inside. I suppose I was stupid to think I could leave them alone for longer than a minute or two, but sometimes, Marilla dear, don't judge me for this, sometimes I just need a moment alone._

 _Anyway, I ran back to the house and it was as though something had possessed them both. They had upended the milk jug and were dancing through the mess. They were happy as Larry of course, but I'd no milk for the day and a great deal of mopping to do. I admit to you I nearly cried._

All my love Alice

* * *

30 April  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Oh Alice,_

 _I do so commiserate with you dear. And your comment that you needed just a moment's peace really struck a chord with me. It is all consuming isn't it? Do you get any peace at all, apart from when they are abed?_

 _I had a little breakdown last year, I admit. It all got too much for me. I was exhausted, and I just had to get away from the family for a little while._

 _My family and my in-laws were superb. The doctor was called, and I was ordered to rest for a week, no house work and no children allowed. I went back to my parent's farm to convalesce. My parents-in-law cared for my family, my mother-in-law later commented that she didn't know how I had managed all that time. When I was finally reunited with my family, I felt so much better, so much calmer and I could enjoy them again. Prior to that everything I did, every movement they made seemed like a terrible chore. Life seemed interminable._

 _My family have really stepped up since then. My mother and my mother-in-law help with some chores and take Jamie off my hands for a day or two a week. I admit, while I should be doing housework at that time, I usually just catch up on sleep._

 _Do you have anyone who can help you out like that?_

 _All my love Marilla_

* * *

15 May  
Kingsport

 _Marilla dear_

 _No, I don't have any help like that. My husband is supportive of course, but he is busy working. If I mention that I'd love some help to my extended family, they tell me I should just put Charlotte in a home if I can't cope. Oh Marilla, how can they say that? I have some inkling of what happens in those places. I just can't put poor Charlotte through that. I love her too much. So, you can see, it's just me here doing the best I can. But I can feel I might be on the brink myself. As you say, every move the children make seems like a terrible chore, that's such an excellent way to put it. All I have for real support is these letters back and forth to you Marilla. It is so lovely to have a non-judgemental friend to pour my heart out to._

 _Love_

 _Alice_

* * *

2 June  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Alice dearest,_

 _I feel likewise regarding our correspondence. It is lovely to have someone to open your heart to, someone who really understands my experience. Someone who will never judge._

 _I am so terribly sorry that your family is not as supportive. Of course, people have suggested that I put Jamie away in a home too. I feel exactly as you do about them. Sometimes it is so tempting, it would be so very easy to do, and I feel no one would judge me for it. But I just can't do that to poor wee Jamie. He would be so terribly upset, I don't think I could ever forgive myself._

 _Have you considered getting an orphan to help perhaps? I believe there are plenty of orphan girls willing and able to help. A girl could give you some respite. If you got one old enough, say 14 or 15 they could be quite dependable and useful around the house. Of course, you would have an extra mouth to feed, but on the whole, I think it could be quite beneficial to you._

 _All my love_

 _Marilla_

* * *

10 June  
Kingsport

 _Dearest Marilla_

 _What an amazing idea. I don't know why I didn't think of it myself. I've discussed the possibility with Henry and he thinks it sounds wonderful. I'll write away to the orphan asylum tomorrow and God willing I'll get some help. Marilla you have been a fount of inspiration and support for me these last few months. I cannot thank you enough._

 _Fondest love_

 _Alice_

* * *

14 June  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Dearest Alice_

 _It is my absolute pleasure. Receiving your letters every week or so has bought me joy that I cannot express. Just to know that I am not alone in this world. Well, words fail me at this time._

 _I must share some good news with you, Jamie has been dry at night for a week. I do wonder if he is turning a corner? It has been such a relief to feel that dry diaper every morning this week, and even if he takes it off during the night, the sheets are dry. I am sure you will understand my feelings as no one else could._

 _Fondest love_

 _Marilla_

* * *

30 June  
Kingsport

 _Dearest Marilla_

 _Our girl, Martha, arrived earlier this week and already she has made an enormous difference to my life. She is 15 years old and has good cooking and housework skills. She was a little hesitant with Charlotte, but after a day or so settled down and is now invaluable. I can leave her to mind Charlotte and not worry that she will burn herself, run off or get hurt in some way. It's such a relief, words cannot express. Together we get the housework done and I'm enjoying some company around the house. For her part she seems to be quite happy here._

 _That's marvellous news about Jamie, I can completely understand your relief. I have been praying for you and Jamie, perhaps God heard my prayers and delivered this small miracle to you._

 _Fondest love_

 _Alice_

* * *

6 July  
Green Gables, Avonlea

 _Dear Alice_

 _What wonderful news. I am so happy for you all. Martha sounds like a Godsend._

 _I have been worried about Mary. She has been quite unsettled of late, I'm sure living with Jamie has not been helping. My neighbour Mrs Lynde has offered to take her to White Sands for a vacation and I have agreed to let her go. Mary is delighted, she has never been on vacation. I am busy sewing clothes for her, including a swimming costume._

 _Mrs Lynde has several children including some girls around Mary's age, so I expect she will have a wonderful time. In fact, I find I am quite envious of her. Still I had a wonderful free upbringing in a way that she has not, so I should be pleased for her and am._

 _I have asked my parents to take Eliza for a couple of weeks also, she might enjoy some time apart from us too. It will be quite busy here without them both as I do rely on them to help me with Jamie, but they deserve a break._

 _Fondest love_

 _Marilla_

* * *

17 July  
Kingsport

 _Dear Marilla_

 _Your girls' vacations sound wonderful. What a treat for them both._

 _Our Martha continues to be a delight. She's taught Charlotte some new signs and we now know when she needs her diaper changed and when she's getting upset (apart from a scream) which has proved very useful. I'm very much enjoying Martha's company. She is a bright, imaginative girl and a hard worker. She's taken to telling Charlotte and Michael long stories during the day and it settles them both. I often take myself off for a nap. She's transformed my life. I can't thank you enough for the suggestion, dearest Marilla._

 _Fondest love_

 _Alice_


	9. Chapter 9

One fine late summer morning when cheery sunshine was pouring into the windows; Marilla was surprised to find Jamie not up and knocking at her door as he usually did at daybreak. Sleeping in was not something that Jamie had ever gotten the knack for. Walking into his room she jauntily announced, "Time to get up, sleepy head!" but was dismayed to find his little body curled up in its usual sleeping position. She turned him over to see blue lips in his pale face. She gave a cry of anguish and pulled his lax body into her arms. It was too late, he had perished in his sleep. The girls came running and were distressed to see her moaning and sobbing with their dead brother in her arms.

Mary ran out to the barn screaming "Papa! Papa come quickly!" John appeared, worried by Mary's cries. "Papa, I think Jamie has died" she sobbed. He ran into the house and found Marilla wailing with a motionless Jamie in her arms, his head lolling on her shoulder. She looked up at him, eyes streaming, and cried, "He died, our gorgeous son has died." John swiftly knelt down to gather Marilla and Jamie into his arms and they wept together.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you to everyone who has read or commented.**

 **Back when I was considering Marilla and John's marriage I needed to put a hurdle in their way for the sake of drama.** **I settled on a special needs child.**

 **A few people have enquired if I am close to a special needs child either as a parent, sister or aunt. I therefore make this full disclosure: while I have friends with special needs children, I have none in my personal life. This story springs from empathy and imagination alone.**

 **I imagined how hard and heartbreaking it would be to have a child like Jamie back in the 1850s. Let's face it, this is a time when if you wanted a slice of bread and butter you not only had to make the bread, but the butter too. Housework was hard enough without the added strain of looking after a child like Jamie. There was no understanding of Down Syndrome. Mongolism, its initial name, was not described until 1866. There was no in-home support.  
Children like Jamie were placed in asylums to languish until death.**

 **Jamie** had **to die. There was no way I could have given you an adult Jamie.  
One common symptom of Down Syndrome is congenital heart disease. As a result, children died,  
usually of heart attacks, aged about 9.  
Their life span has only improved in the last 40 years or so. **

**That last chapter was short and abrupt I know. I wanted to convey the sense of shock that  
Marilla, John, Mary and Eliza would have felt in that situation.**

 **They had no warning either.**

* * *

 **Eternal Angel**

 _But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.*_

The church bell tolled as the congregation walked to the graveyard. The coffin was as small as the body within. Marilla was stumbling along in a world of pain. Sometimes she had found Jamie too hard to bear. Now that he was gone, she felt nothing but guilt about the way she had behaved. He was an innocent, loving her without question. She wished she had been able to reciprocate that love unequivocally.

* * *

 _14 August_

 _Dear Mrs Bartram_

 _This is John Blythe writing on behalf of Marilla. I am sorry to inform you that our beautiful boy Jamie died in his sleep last week. Marilla is too upset to write, but I know you have been corresponding regularly and may have been wondering why she did not respond to your last letter. We are of course devastated. We adored our little boy. The house seems very quiet without him around._

 _I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your support for Marilla these last few months. I know she has thanked you herself, but I would like to add my sincere gratitude. Having a friend to confide in has been immeasurably helpful for her. I sincerely hope you two will remain close henceforth._

 _I expect Marilla will write more when she is able, until then I remain,_

Your friend

John Blythe

* * *

A dishevelled Marilla lay in her bed, she felt ghastly. She had been weeping in bed for days. She had forgotten about Jamie momentarily and it had all come rushing back, bringing tears to her eyes, but all her hankies were sopping wet. She heard a step in the doorway, looked up and was dismayed to see a well-dressed woman standing there. She was dressed in a smart cream dress and had a beautiful hat upon her head. "Wh-who are you?" Marilla asked tremulously.

"I'm Alice."

It was as though Marilla turned to liquid as she sinuously poured into Alice's arms, weeping bitterly. Alice held her friend tightly. She was sorrowful to meet her in such a state. "Shh shh I'm here. I know, I know." She hugged Marilla tightly, comforting her through her pain and grief.

As Marilla's sobs died away, leaving her hiccupping intermittently, Alice drew her back. "If you don't mind me saying so, you look dreadful."

Marilla gave a rueful smile. "I know. I feel awful."

"I'm sure. Your dear husband is drawing a bath as we speak. Shall we?" And with that she led a dutiful Marilla down the stairs in a way she could never have imagined an hour ago.

Alice gently undressed Marilla and helped her into the bath. She scrubbed her back and watched while Marilla washed the rest. Then she led her back upstairs to get dressed.

"I feel human again, thank you."

"I think a walk is in order, don't you?" Alice suggested.

The two ladies walked out the door hand in hand, while John looked on in wonder. He had cajoled Marilla to get out and about to no avail. He hadn't been able to get her out of her bedroom since Jamie's funeral. She had barely made it through that; had retired to bed during the wake, and hadn't emerged since. Their respective mothers had been to visit, but she hadn't spoken to them, nor to the minister either. But it had taken Alice mere moments to get her up and about again. Such is the nature of a friend, he surmised.

* * *

The women strolled through the late summer sunshine. It seemed wrong somehow, all this glorious weather, when little Jamie wasn't there to enjoy it.

"Marilla dear, I am so terribly, terribly sorry, you know that. This is a horrendous time."

"Oh Alice, I wish you could have met him. He was such a dear little chap. I wish we had introduced our children to each other."

Alice smiled at her, "That would've been wonderful. But we didn't know how little time we had, did we?" They strolled along in companionable silence for a while longer.

"How on earth can you come and visit me?" Marilla broke the silence first.

"My marvellous Martha, that's how. She's been the most wonderful support to me. I mentioned that I wanted to come here to comfort you, and at once she agreed to mind the family while I'm away. I can only stay a day. It's too much work for her by herself."

"Please thank her for me, it is a lovely thing she has done.

"I'll be sure to. You're the reason we have her. I think she is happy enough with me, I am certainly trying to do right by her. We get on very well, apart from anything she is great company for me. You know how lonely it can be."

Marilla squeezed Alice's hand, "Yes, of course."

"Is it too soon to ask how you are?"

"How am I? I'm still in shock I think. It hasn't sunk in. I keep forgetting he's not around the next corner, that he's not around somewhere. Then it all comes flooding back and I…" She broke down in tears again. Alice silently handed her a handkerchief. "… and I feel so terribly guilty, you know."

"Guilty? Yes I suppose you would. It's natural, I'm sure. Though you have nothing to feel guilty for."

"Oh, I do. I do. I wasn't much of a mother to him."

Alice stopped and stood to face her. She took Marilla's hands in hers. "Marilla Blythe you did all you could for Jamie. No mother could have done more. You sustained and nurtured him in a way few people would. We both know how many people would have stuffed him in a home, one of those ghastly places where he would have had a life of privation and utter misery, confused and neglected. Keeping Jamie here with you was simultaneously the hardest and best thing you could ever have done. I will not have you berate yourself for being human. I won't."

Marilla listened with surprise to Alice's diatribe. "I, I… suppose… if you put it like that."

"I do put it like that. Come'ere and hug me."

The ladies turned around and went back home to coffee and cake. John was out in the barn, but he was keeping an eye out for their return. He was grateful for Alice's visit and wanted to speak with her too.

He made his way inside shortly after they returned. "Mr Blythe, how lovely to properly meet you."

"Mrs Bartram, likewise, I am sure."

Marilla interjected, "I think we three should be on first name terms, don't you? Alice, may I introduce my husband John, John, this is Alice Bartram." They bowed slightly at each other and relaxed. John sat down at the kitchen table.

"Are the girls around? I would so love to meet them too?"

"They're out visiting, but they should be home soon." John replied.

"How're they coping?"

"I think they're very sad. We have all been mourning in our own ways, of course."

"I think perhaps you need to mourn together too, y'know. I just think in these times of sorrow the shared support of your family is a wonderful blessing."

Alice stayed and chatted with them and was an enormous source of comfort for Marilla and John that afternoon. She had some words of wisdom to impart and they both felt better for having had her visit. She knew, as no one else could, their situation over the past years and she had an inkling of what they were going through now.

The children returned home and were introduced to Mrs Bartram and politely greeted her. For her part she was delighted to meet them, they seemed like lovely girls.

After a few hours she stood up. "Now I must be going. I have to get back home. John may I have a lift to the station?"

"Oh no! Please stay?"

"No, really I can't. Perhaps Marilla, you could come and visit me some day. I'd love to introduce you to Charlotte, and Martha too of course."

"I would love to, my dearest friend. That would be wonderful."

"I'll be in touch, my dear." They kissed and hugged, Alice climbed into the carriage and waved as John drove her away.

Marilla felt much better for Alice's short visit. She had put things into perspective. She would always feel guilty about poor wee Jamie, but she had done her best, and kept him with her, and really what more could she have done?

* * *

"Right" announced John about a week later "I think we all deserve a picnic at the beach."

The girls and Marilla looked up at him in shock "A holiday?"

"Yes. I think we all deserve a day out, don't we Eliza?" He picked her up and swung her around in a circle.

"Yes Papa" she replied, her eyes lighting up.

"Marilla," he declared "pack a picnic! We're off on an outing."

The water sparkled with the sun creating a myriad of tiny sparkling jewels upon the sea. The sunlight smote upon and incarnadined the shining, white, grassless faces of the sand dunes.** The girls hastily shucked their shoes and stockings off and ran shouting down the beach. Marilla and John strolled after them, hand in hand. "Jamie would have loved this."

John smiled at her, "he would've."

"I miss him."

"I do as well. He had a big heart, our little boy." Marilla leaned into John's shoulder, a tear twinkling in her eye.

"This is a happy day, Mar. No tears now."

"Yes, yes you're right." She said hastily wiping her tears away with her fingers. "Shall we set up the blanket here?"

"Looks as nice a place as any." John agreed.

The girls ran back up begging to go paddling. "May we Mama?"

"Yes of course you may, my darlings."

"Then we'll build a massive sand castle, shall we?"

"Oh yes Papa, that sounds like fun."

Marilla sat back and watched her happy family frolicking in the waves, John had joined the girls and was splashing them mercilessly, their excited laughter was echoing up the beach. She too had taken her shoes and stockings off and was enjoying the sensation of warm sand between her toes. It had been a long time since she had come to the beach. The sun was hot, so she put her parasol up to provide some shade. She could see her family running back up the beach towards her and the girls slid down to their knees next to her, their hair wild and their faces still wet with seawater.

"Are you thirsty girls? Do you want a drink?"

"Yes, please Mama."

Marilla poured out some water for them both and they drank it down thirstily. "May I have some more Mama?" Eliza asked politely.

"Of course."

"Are you hungry yet? I have some sandwiches here, and a cake for later."

"Not yet" they called over their shoulders, running back down the beach for another go.

"Let's surprise Papa" Mary whispered to Eliza.

"Yes, we have a score to settle", she whispered back.

John was kneeling down in the water, waiting for them to return from their drink. He was expecting reprisals because he had teased them mercilessly.

The three of them hooted again, Marilla was delighted to hear their mirth, it had been a grim month for them all. This had been a splendid idea of John's, they all needed a break,

Marilla lay back on the warm sand, her thoughts drifting back to Jamie as they so often did in quieter moments. They'd bought him down here one day when he was small. He had had a wonderful day, paddling in the shallows with her. His bare little bottom reflected in the sea. She wasn't sure, no he hadn't been walking then. She must have been holding his hands. He had been laughing too, but as with anything to do with Jamie, there had been that underlying sorrow. A boy his age should have been swimming with his friends, something Jamie never learnt to do.

Jamie had had a protected life, for obvious reasons, and that meant he never had friends his own age, Marilla wondered if he missed them. Perhaps he never had the maturity to appreciate the lack. His family provided all that he needed in that regard.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Eliza announcing that she was hungry, and could they have lunch now. "Oh, I'm sorry darling, I was miles away, what did you say?"

"I asked if we could have lunch? I'm starving."

"Of course." Marilla dug around in the picnic basket and fished out a sandwich for Eliza who plopped down next to her to eat it.

"Were you thinking about Jamie?"

"Hmm? Yes, I was."

"I think about him all the time. I miss him Mama."

"Me too sweetheart. He would have liked today I think."

"Yes."

"What do you miss most?"

"I just miss reading him stories. He always used to laugh when I used funny voices for the characters. You never knew if he really understood all the words, but he liked the voices I used. What about you Mama, what do you miss?"

"I miss nursing him to sleep, that was always a special time for us both. You know he was most indignant when you turned up and I had to nurse you instead of him."

Eliza smiled, "I bet. He wasn't very good at sharing, was he?"

"No, that was something he never learnt the knack for, that's for sure and certain."

"What are you two discussing?" John enquired as he and Mary arrived for lunch.

"Jamie." said Eliza

"Oh yes, Jamie."

"We're discussing what we most miss about him. What about you Mary?"

Mary burst into tears, "I think I was a horrible big sister to him. I never spent much time with him, I just treated him like an annoying little brother."

"Well darling that wasn't always true, you know. When you two were little you were besotted with him, and he with you."

"I was?"

"Oh yes, you played together so sweetly. Remember John?"

"Yes, you were lovely together."

Mary felt much better hearing that, she had been feeling terribly guilty about the way she had behaved towards him, if she hadn't always been awful, then maybe she wasn't so bad after all. She smiled, and her parents were pleased to see it, she had been rather quiet of late.

"And you Papa? What do you miss?"

"Well I miss having another man about the place, I'm rather outnumbered by women nowadays."

"Oh John," Marilla leant over to kiss him,

"But seriously I miss his cheeky smiles and his sense of mischief, I know he created a great deal of work for you Mar. but you have to admit he was fun to be around." They all smiled at that. He had made them all laugh through some pretty bleak times.

"Have you finished lunch?" Marilla enquired after a pause. "I'd like to go for a stroll along the beach. Anyone coming with me?"

"That sounds like a splendid idea Mar. Shall we look for shells girls?"

John and Marilla strolled hand in hand along the beach, while the girls ran rings around them, bending over to pick up pretty shells and running back to show their mother. Marilla kept the most beautiful as a keepsake.

"This was a wonderful idea, John. Thank you for suggesting it."

"I thought we needed it. Just the four of us, a time to grieve and to remember Jamie and to take stock of how lucky we are."

"We were lucky to have him, weren't we?"

"Yes, he was our little angel. Here on earth for such a short time; an angel in heaven for eternity."

After their walk John announced it was time to build a sand castle. He and the girls knelt in the wet sand and built a castle with many turrets and bridges over the moat. The girls used their sea shells to decorate the towers.

Later sunburnt and covered in sand they made their way back up the beach to the carriage for a sleepy ride home.

* Matthew 19:14  
** Anne's House of Dreams


	11. Chapter 11

"Here you are Mama, I bought some sugar."

"Sugar?"

"Yes, twenty pounds, will that be enough?"

"Twenty pounds of brown sugar?" queried Constance.

When David came in for tea she said, "You'll have to talk to him David."

"Oh, what was it this time?"

"Brown sugar, twenty pounds of poor quality brown sugar. Honestly David we can't afford his courting style. This is his third ridiculous purchase this week. Tell him to ask the woman out and be done with it."

After tea David cornered Matthew in the barn. "Who is she son?"

"Who is who Papa?"

"The object of your affections, the one you can't talk to, the one you're buying all this expensive useless stuff from. Please, for all our sakes, ask her to go for a walk or something."

* * *

Matthew had noticed her in the mercantile a few weeks prior and had asked around. Nancy Campbell was a widow. Her husband had been a farm labourer but had died in a farm accident. She had two young daughters. Matthew was smitten. He spied Nancy over at the bolts of material and hid behind the sacks of grain to spy on her. The way she laughed, the way her auburn hair caught the sunlight, the sway of her hips, her impressive chest, were all mesmerising to him.

Matthew was in town again the next day, twisting his hat into a tight knot, before resolutely striding into the mercantile. He looked around cautiously and spied Nancy over by the rakes, but then his courage failed him, and he darted back to the seed and pretended to be avidly weighing up his options.

Summoning all his courage again, he emerged from behind the grain and walked over to Nancy. "Good day Mr Cuthbert." Nancy had noticed Matthew came to the store regularly and was buying up all manner of stuff, usually out of season, garden rakes and hayseed in winter for instance. She assumed he was eccentric.

"Good day Mrs Campbell um, that is to say, um." As he stuttered his question out, she came to the realisation that he was smitten, and the object of his desires was none other than herself. She had a good chance to investigate him then, he was not a bad looking fellow. He had soft brown hair down to his shoulders, and a full brown beard, admittedly with flecks of grey in it. His brown eyes looked very kind. He was in short, a gentle man.

Matthew continued to stutter out his question, never quite getting to the point.

"Yes? Can I help you?" she tried to help him.

The staff were watching his futile attempts to ask her out with amusement and growing frustration, eventually Mrs Cartwright walked over and motioned to Nancy "A word if I may interrupt, Nancy?" Nancy walked over to her, "Just put the poor man, and us, out of his misery and ask if he will walk you home?" Nancy nodded and walked back to Matthew.

"Mr Cuthbert, would you do me the honour of walking me home this afternoon?"

The look of relief on Matthews face was palpable. "I would be honoured, Mrs Campbell."

Accordingly, having hung around town all afternoon, imagining erudite conversations with the woman of his dreams; Matthew Cuthbert turned up at the mercantile again and asked Nancy if he could accompany her home.

Nancy gathered her goods, put her hat and Matt helped her put her coat on. He had never touched a woman other than his sister or mother and he thrilled to inadvertently touch her shoulders. She felt softer than Marilla. "Shall we?" he offered her his arm and the two of them walked out of the mercantile and down the street, Matthew Cuthbert looking like he did this every day of the week, although his intestines had turned to liquid with anxiety.

Matthew was just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, acutely aware of her arm in his, the warm feeling of having a woman, this woman no less, in close proximity to his body.

Her smell.

Her touch.

The sound of her breath.

The light on her hair.

Her perfume.

The feel of her coat and her flesh below.

Taking in all these sensations, speech was beyond him.

"So, Mr Cuthbert tell me about yourself?" Nancy broke the silence that threatened to engulf them for the totality of their short walk home.

"Oh, um" Matthew was stunned, he'd forgotten he was supposed to speak too. "Well, now let me see, I am a bachelor, I live at Green Gables in Avonlea, we farm potatoes mostly. I have a sister who is married and has three, no two children." At that he faltered, he missed Jamie too.

"I heard about your family's loss" Nancy reassured him, "that must have been a terrible shock."

"It was, Jamie was a gorgeous little boy. We all adored him."

"You must be close to your sister then?"

"Yes I am."

"Do you live at home still?"

"Yes, I live with my parents. What about you Mrs Campbell?"

"Well I used to be married but my husband died in a farming accident two years ago. He left me with two little girls Rebecca and Polly they are nine and five years old. I work at the mercantile to make ends meet. So, it seems we are both grieving at some level."

"Yes, though your loss was more devastating than mine, I'm sure."

"Well it's not a contest. I'm sure losing someone so young was a terrible blow. Oh, here we are, this is my humble abode." Matthew was shocked, it was a tumbledown shack on the edge of town. "It's not much, but it's home." She opened the door, Matthew could hear the rising voices of her daughters within. "Well I'll leave you here then. May I see you again?"

It became their habit, Matthew would pick Nancy up after work and walk her home, and as they did so they came to know each other quite well. They had progressed to first names after a week, he had been introduced to Rebecca and Polly. Matthew would bring her apples from the Blythe farm which her they all enjoyed. One evening he asked her, "Would you and the girls like to come to Green Gables for dinner on Saturday next?"

"Can you cook?"

"Well, no. Mama will be taking care of that, she is keen to meet you all."

"We would be delighted, then. I was a bit worried about what you might rustle up."

Dinner was enjoyed and eventually after a short courtship Matthew realised that around Nancy made him happy. He adored her girls too. He never thought of himself as the father type, but he had loved being an uncle for Marilla's children. One Saturday afternoon he paid a call to their tumbledown shack, knocked on the door, was greeted by little Polly and invited in. The girls were frolicking around, often Matthew bought them sweeties or little presents. It was all rather over whelming and Matthew had a job to perform that day. "Stop, Stop. Please. Nancy, I have to ask you a question." They all stopped and looked at him, it wasn't often Matthew asserted himself.

"Marilla is expecting another baby." He blurted out, but that wasn't what he meant to say at all.

"Oh, what happy news. How delightful for you all. She must be excited."

"Nancy, would you like to go for a walk with me?"

"Of course, you'll be all right for a while won't you girls? I'll just grab my shawl."

They strolled down the road, it wasn't a particularly beautiful road, and there was a constant stream of traffic into town, but Matthew steered them down a side road where it was both quieter and prettier. All of a sudden, to Nancy's surprise he bent down on one knee, produced a simple pearl ring and said "Nancy Campbell, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Nancy was astounded she hadn't expected to marry again. She did like Matthew, he was a nice man, but could she envisage living the rest of her life with him? He had a lovely farm, that was true, and it would mean financial stability for her and the girls, they could leave their shack and move out to Avonlea. Matthew was a quiet simple man, but very sweet. She thought he would look after her and love her girls. Poor Matthew was still kneeling on his right knee as she thought the situation through. "Yes. Matthew, I would love to be your wife."

"Oh, thank goodness, my knees were killing me." Nancy laughed, "Silly! You can get up now, and kiss me."

The sensation of her sweet lips on his nearly made Matthew swoon. Never in his wildest dreams could he imagine kissing such a beautiful woman as Nancy. He staggered a little, unaccustomed to long kisses. Nancy came up for air and reminded him to breathe. "Shall we tell the girls? I feel they deserve to know, you'll be their Papa after all." He nodded, still a bit dumbstruck with love to talk, and they made their way back to her shack.

Rebecca and Polly were delighted, they didn't like their shack and far preferred the thought of living in Avonlea. They adored Matthew and hoped they would all be happy together.

The Cuthberts were shocked and astounded that their son, Matthew, was finally going to tie the knot. That night after he had told them, Constance and David were discussing the news in bed. "Well I never thought that would happen, did you David?"

"No, I had given up hope, he's so terribly shy."

"She's a lovely woman, do you like her?"

"Yes, I do, I think she'll be good for Matthew. Her girls are lovely too. It's like he has an instant family, I wonder if they'll have one of their own?"

"That would be lovely. I'm looking forward to Marilla's baby too. I hope that goes well for her. She's had a tough time.

* * *

A couple of months later Matthew Cuthbert married the love of his life, Nancy Campbell. They were married in the Avonlea church amongst their friends and family who showered them with good wishes. Little Rebecca and Polly were their flower girls and Nancy's old colleague at the Mercantile, Mrs Cartwright was her Matron of Honour.

There was a little house near Green Gables for sale and Matthew bought it with his savings. It wasn't grand, but there was enough room for the four of them with a little room to spare, should it be needed. It was certainly far better than the tumbledown shack Nancy and the girls had been living in near to town.

Matthew found he loved married life. He loved sharing his bed with Nancy. He hadn't appreciated what he had been missing out on all this time. She was warm and soft, and he loved to lie with his head resting on her soft belly, tracing circles on her skin.

* * *

 _All things bright and beautiful,  
All creatures great and small,_  
 _All things wise and wonderful,_  
 _The Lord God made them all._

Marilla stood next to John in the church with baby Jack cradled in her arms. She swayed back and forth in the way that all mothers instinctively do when they have a precious babe in their arms. He was full of milk and sleepy, his pursed lips still had a few drops of milk on them. Hopefully he would sleep through the entire thing, but what did a baby squawk or two matter, particularly at his own christening?

 _Each little flower that opens,  
Each little bird that sings,  
He made their glowing colours,  
He made their tiny wings._

They had checked him over carefully at birth, but he appeared completely normal. Certainly they had established nursing straight off, unlike those torrid first few days with Jamie when he was so hungry and unable to latch. He fed and slept and did all the things a baby should do. Life was good.

 _The rocky mountain splendour,  
the haunting curlew's call,  
the great lakes and the prairies,  
the forests in the fall._

Jack was dressed in the beautiful Cuthbert christening gown that his brother and sisters had worn at their christenings and which Marilla herself had worn at hers. She fingered the dainty lace skirt that hid Jack's tiny feet. He snorted slightly in his sleep and she watched as his face screwed up and then relaxed as he dreamt of who know what? What do babies dream of anyway? Marilla pondered.

 _The purple headed mountain,  
The river running by,  
The sunset and the morning,  
That brightens up the sky;_

The congregation were singing the hymn All Things Bright and Beautiful which seemed particularly apt to Marilla, Jack was the brightest and most beautiful thing that had happened to her for some time, certainly since Eliza's birth.

 _The cold wind in the winter,  
The pleasant summer sun,  
The ripe fruits in the garden,  
He made them everyone:_

She could see Eliza sitting in the family pew next to her grandmother, her uncle Matthew and his new wife Nancy on his other side. It was hard for Marilla to become accustomed to that thought, that Matthew had gotten married after all this time. She was very happy for him, he deserved a good wife.

 _The tall trees in the greenwood,  
The meadows where we play,  
The rushes by the water,  
We gather every day;_

She had invited Alice and her family including Martha to the christening and was pleased to see them in the third pew. Was Dr Cooper here? She should introduce them afterwards, he was responsible for their friendship after all. The autumn after Jamie had passed, she had sent a crate of strawberry apples to Alice's family and had received a lovely letter in return. They had been gratefully received. Marilla was not surprised, they were a rare and delicious treat, especially for a city family unused to the bounty of Avonlea. She meant to ask young Michael to stay over the summer vacation. He might enjoy a summer filled with freedom, such as only their town could provide.

 _The tall trees in the greenwood,  
The meadows where we play,  
The rushes by the water,  
We gather every day;_

This had been a happy pregnancy. She recalled the night they discussed baby names.

"How about Dilbert?" suggested John as he caressed her swelling stomach as they lay in bed one night.

Marilla looked straight at him "Dilbert? What on earth are you talking about?"

"I mean if it's a boy, we could call him Dilbert."

Marilla leant forward to feel his forehead, "Are you sickening for something?"

"What? No. I'm fine."

"It's just Dilbert is such a terrible name. Where did that spring from? Did you know a Dilbert somewhere?"

"I don't think so, it just came to me, as though I had to have a child called that."

"Well I hate to disappoint you, but that won't be happening. I like John, after your father, we could call him Jack. How would that be?"

"And if she's a girl?"

"Sarah."

 _He gave us eyes to see them,  
And lips that we might tell,  
How great is God Almighty,  
Who has made all things well._

 _All things bright and beautiful,  
All creatures great and small,_  
 _All things wise and wonderful,_  
 _The Lord God made them all.*_

*Cecil Alexander 1848


	12. Chapter 12

**This Mortal Coil**

Marilla was changing baby Jack's diaper before putting him down to sleep. It was time for his morning nap. It was never a good idea to think about how many diapers she had changed over the years, sometimes she couldn't help calculating it though. At least she only had one baby in them now though. It had been harder when Eliza was little, and she had had to launder hers and Jamie's. She heard a gentle knock, hastily kissed Jack and put him down in his cradle, before bustling out to the door.

Nancy stood on the doorstep hoping someone was home, when she heard movement within. She assumed Marilla would be able to see her. She had bought her a treat.

The door opened to reveal a rather dishevelled Marilla making a hasty attempt to do up her hair. "Nancy, what a surprise! How lovely to see you."

"Is now a good time? I brought you a cake."

"Yes, yes of course. I just put Jack down for a sleep. Cake sounds delightful. Tea or coffee?"

Marilla was still getting to know her sister in law, the very phrase was unfamiliar in her mind, especially as John was an only child.

"Coffee please."

Marilla set out the coffee cups and plated the cake, it looked like apple cake. Inwardly she sighed, who would bring apple cake to the wife of an apple orchardist? Of course she was gracious. "This cake looks lovely."

"Oh yes, it's an apple cake. I suppose you eat them all the time, that was a bit silly of me."

"Not at all, it's always interesting to try different recipes." In truth, no one made as good an apple cake as she did.

They sipped their coffee and ate the cake. Marilla had been right, hers was better.

"How are you all? Are you getting any sleep?" Nancy enquired politely.

"Well you know, Jack's up a couple of times a night. Often in the afternoon I lay down with him when he's having his afternoon nap, just to catch up. Of course, the girls are a great help. Mary cooks dinner most night now and Eliza helps with the laundry. Do your girls help out around the house?"

"Oh yes, Rebecca loves to bake and I'm teaching her how to cook. Polly collects the eggs and is learning to bake as well, she has a lovely hand with pastries."

"Matthew and I were discussing your parents the other day." Nancy said.

"Oh, yes?"

"Yes, we're getting a little worried about them. Neither of them is getting any younger."

"That's so." Did anyone ever? Marilla mused.

"Your father is getting quite frail and your mother is not much better."

"Yes, it's a worry. I take food over to them quite regularly, Mama's cooking is not what it used to be."

"Yes, I take things around too. Perhaps we should take turns, and that way we can keep an eye on them."

* * *

"Nancy is so annoying." Marilla told John in bed that night. "Today she said she and Matthew were worried about Mama and Papa." She could feel John's response before he made it. "Don't tell me she's right, just because she's right, doesn't make it any less exasperating John. I've been worried about them for some time now. Mama's memory isn't as sharp as it used to be. She asked me how Jamie was the other day."

"Oh Mar". John pulled her closer for a hug. "What did you say to that?"

"I reminded her of the truth and she covered it up, but I honestly think she forgot that he wasn't here anymore."

"That's concerning. Sounds like a softening of the brain, I've heard of that happening."

"What do you think about Matthew and Nancy moving into Green Gables to care for them. Matthew will be inheriting the property when they pass?" Marilla suggested.

"That's probably a good idea. You know I'm worried about Dad on his own at our place. Since Mum died, he's really lonely. Do you think we should move over there too?" John's mother had died from a stroke the previous summer.

Marilla got up on one elbow, though she couldn't really see him in the gloom. "Actually, I think that is a wonderful idea. Do you think we'll be able to sell this place?"

"I'm sure we'll find a buyer."

* * *

Mary and Eliza were delighted to move into the Blythe house, it was larger than their old home. They ran around the first day laying claim to bedrooms. It was quite bewildering to John's father, Andrew. He loved them, but he wasn't used to the hustle and bustle of a young family. Marilla sensed his distress and was just about to settle the girls, when Jack woke up and added his wails to the hubbub. She looked to John beseechingly.

"Right girls come and help me out." He commanded, deciding to channel their energy.

"Andrew, let me sort little Jack out and then I'll make some tea. You just go and sit in the parlour and I'll be there shortly." Marilla offered.

She could hear the family bringing in boxes and quietly discussing where things could go, Jack was quietly nursing. The whole house felt as though it was taking a breath.

Jack finished and looked up at her. She felt a rush of love for him, he was such an easy-going baby. She had loved all her children, of course. But she hadn't had a clue when Mary was born, was continually worried with Jamie, and too exhausted with Eliza. Jack was the first baby she could really enjoy, she kissed his forehead.

Rachel sometimes said silly things like 'you're spoiling that baby', though she loved babies herself. Marilla didn't care, she just did what felt right to her. If making your children feel loved was spoiling them, then so be it. She always loved kissing them at this age. Blowing raspberries on their round tummies was something every one of her babies loved and Jack was no exception. He roared with laughter as she did it a couple of times.

She remembered she had promised Andrew some tea, so she quickly dressed Jack and took him out with her to the kitchen. It would have been handy to leave him with Andrew for a moment, but Andrew was a hands-off grandfather, unlike David.

Placing Jack in his basket on the floor where she could keep an eye on him, she deftly prepared some morning tea for everyone. Rachel had kindly supplied some raspberry tarts as she knew Marilla wouldn't have time for baking that week.

"Here you go Andrew, here's some tea." Andrew had nodded off but roused when Marilla appeared with the tea tray. "What, what? Oh lovely." Marilla brought Jack in to join them and poured some tea. "Oh, you bought the baby, too did you?"

"We're moving in Pa." John said, as he bent over to snag a tart. "Remember we told you. We're moving in, so we can look after you."

"Of course, yes silly me."

Marilla and John exchanged a knowing look.

Later Marilla confided to John "I'm worried about him, he's quite confused."

"It's a big adjustment for him. Just give him a few days."

* * *

A similar scene was played out at Green Gables. Matthew and Nancy moved there with their girls. Constance and David were finding it hard to acclimatise.

Marilla took Jack over for a visit one day a week later. While Nancy was in the kitchen, she took the opportunity to ask her parents how they were managing. "Well it's lovely to have the family here of course. Are they staying long?" Constance queried.

"Yes, Mama they've moved in. Matthew and Nancy are going to care for you now."

Distressingly it was a conversation Marilla repeated every time she visited. Constance became quite paranoid, it appeared that she had forgotten that Nancy was married to Matthew.

Nancy was very upset about the situation. Constance refused to talk directly to her, instead loudly whispering about her to Matthew or Marilla. "I don't know who this woman is? She's just made herself at home here. Can't we get rid of her?" Matthew found it difficult, he adored Nancy and was upset that he had to manage Constance's continual digs.

"What can I do, Marilla? She won't talk to me." Nancy implored her.

"I don't know Nancy. It's very worrying."

They had a family meeting with the doctor who suggested Nancy keep out of her way. Easier said than done of course. In the end they decided that Marilla and Jack would move in for a little while. Mary and Eliza would keep the house for John.

Constance and David kept to their room. David was quite frail, they were concerned for his lungs. He was mostly bedbound these days with a bad cough.

This is such a sad time. They're all failing." Marilla confided in Matthew over a cup of coffee one afternoon.

"They are elderly Marilla."

"Yes, I know, but I got so caught up in my own family, I forgot they were getting on. Somehow, I thought I'd have them around forever, ridiculous I know. I feel as though our roles are reversed. I'm mothering my mother."

It didn't matter how often Marilla reminded Constance that Nancy was part of the family now, she never got the idea to stick. Constance died believing that her house had been overrun by an alien family. David died of pneumonia after a short illness shortly before his wife. Marilla and Matthew found themselves orphaned in the space of two months. It was fortunate they had the support of loving partners to deal with their loss.

* * *

Marilla and John cared for an increasingly frail Andrew at the Blythe farm, worrying about when he would go too. They had moved his bedroom downstairs, so he didn't have to manage the stairs. He was quite happy slowly pottering about the farm. Marilla found Mary particularly helpful around the house, although she had her own social life to pursue and had several boys interested in her by now.

They were all growing up. Marilla was happy she still had one baby to care for. She walked around the garden holding Jack on her hip singing:

 _Bye, baby Bunting,_  
 _Father's gone a-hunting,_  
 _Mother's gone a-milking,_  
 _Sister's gone a-silking,_  
 _Brother's gone to buy a skin_  
 _To wrap the baby Bunting in._

Jack bounced along with the music, she did love him so. She supposed he would be her last, so she was making the most of his childhood. "What does the future have in store for you, little one?" It was hard to imagine, the world was changing even in little quiet Avonlea.


	13. Chapter 13

_This chapter just did not want to be written._

 **Skeletons in the Closet**

Eliza was positively buzzing when she came home from school. Over the dinner table John asked her what was up. "Miss Flintwinch asked us to write about an imaginary skeleton in the closet. I'm positively brimming with possibilities Papa."

"You'll have to invent something then." Marilla remarked.

"Um, well I don't know about that." John replied in a contemplative manner.

Marilla looked askance at him, while Eliza asked, "Really Papa, do tell."

"Yes, well there is an interesting skeleton in the Blythe cupboard, goes back a ways, now."

Marilla was so shocked she forgot to eat. Mary was also intrigued. Little Jack was too young to notice. John looked at her apologetically, "Sorry Mar, I'm surprised I never told you about Great Uncle George."

"No, you never did."

"Yes, ahem, well Great Uncle George Blythe was a bigamist."

"A bigamist!" Marilla was shocked.

"What's a bigamist, Papa?" Eliza was delighted and shocked to know there were any interesting characters in her boring family.

"Oh, well a bigamist is married to two different people."

"That doesn't sound so bad, I mean what if the first person dies, then you get married again? That's not so terrible."

"Yes, but a bigamist is married to two different people at the same time, Eliza." Marilla explained.

"Oh." That was a different matter.

"Tell me about him, then Papa."

"George was married to Victoria Rickard first. They had two children. He was a travelling salesman if I recall correctly, which took him up and down the island on regular occasions. They were happily married or so everyone thought, but it came out a few years later that he was also married to Susan Shaw. She lived a couple of towns away, I think he had a further child with her. He would leave his house with Victoria and pop into the Susan house a couple of hours later. Neither family knew about the other. One day at church, someone noticed him with the other family and it all came out."

"What happened to them all?" Marilla asked.

"I think Victoria was able to obtain a divorce, and poor Susan was never really married to him in the first place, of course. He was sent to jail.

"Well I never John Blythe. After all these years, I never knew I married into the family of a criminal and a bigamist at that."

John looked at her ruefully. "Do you mind darling? Any second thoughts on the basis of this information."

Marilla looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, before laughing and replying "Not at all, but I will be checking your movements pretty carefully from now on, you know."

The girls looked at their parents carefully for a moment, before bursting into laughter too. Baby Jack laughed because everyone seemed so happy all of a sudden, though he had no idea why.

Eliza thought about it later when she was about to go to sleep. Funny how a conversation about a criminal relative turned into a sweet moment for the whole family. Sometimes, she felt they didn't have a whole lot in common, then something like that would happen and even Mama who could be a bit stern sometimes, would be laughing alongside everyone else. Perhaps her family was pretty good after all.

* * *

Mary Blythe was fifteen. She had nut brown hair and arresting bright blue eyes, like her mother. Mary was a popular girl with a small, but close circle of friends. Including her very best friend Susan Gillis. She had always been close to the Lynde girls too, ever since she had escaped there when Jamie drove her crazy. Now that she was older she was beginning to appreciate their brothers too. With a slender waist and at above average height she was being noticed by quite a few boys.

She had perceived George Wright a couple of months earlier. Of course, he had been at school all along, but boys had only recently come to her attention. George was tall and broad shouldered. He had light brown hair that glinted gold in the sunlight. His blue eyes were sparkly and kind. He was a kind-hearted boy, quite quiet, but when he did talk, he usually had something interesting or funny to say. He could be forgotten about, as he tended to blend into the background, but once you got to know him, you knew he was listening to everything around him. She rather liked his company, and hoped he might pay her a call one Sunday afternoon. Mama might give her leave to go for a walk down the lane with him, if she was lucky.

* * *

Marilla was surprised to receive a parcel in the mail one day address to Master John Blythe. Jack was still too little to understand parcels, but she thought he might like to open it himself. She gave it to him. He spent some time ripping the package open as she sat enjoying his fun. She was as interested as he was about the contents. Inside was a lumpy parcel, wrapped in beautiful paper and tied with a ribbon. The card said:

 _Dear Jack,_

 _I hope this card finds you well. Please give my regards to your Mama. I have sent a small gift to you, I hope you like it. His name is Mr Moosie._

 _Your friend_

 _Mrs Alice Bartram_

As Marilla was reading the card, Jack was tearing the wrapping paper off his present. Within seconds he had uncovered a dear little stuffed toy moose, with cloth antlers and bright little buttons for eyes. Jack clasped it happily and smiled at Marilla. "His name is Mr Moosie, darling. Wasn't that nice of Mrs Bartram." She looked at him with tears in her eyes. Maybe we will go and visit her one day, what do you think, Jack?"

There was another letter in the wrapping dated a couple of days after Jack's card. This one was in an unfamiliar hand.

 _Dear Marilla,_

 _This is Henry Bartram, I very much regret to inform you that our darling Charlotte passed away last week. Alice had just wrapped up Jack's parcel and was about to take it to the post office when Charlotte stumbled, or so we thought at the time. In fact she died very suddenly. The doctor said she was probably dead before she hit the ground. It was a heart attack apparently, which seems very unusual in one so young. Alice was but ten years old._

No sooner had Marilla read this tragic letter, than she was rushing out to find John. She located him in the orchard and hurriedly explained her plan. She decided to leave young Jack at home. Packing her bags, she gave the girls instructions on managing the house for the week and quickly rushed off to catch the train. The family looked at each other after she had left, Jack clutching at Mr Moosie as he waved his Mama bye bye. Barely two hours had passed since she received the mail.

Marilla met Martha at the door and was shown upstairs. There she found a weepy, red-eye Alice abed in her, to Marilla's eyes, sumptuous bedroom. It was not particularly grand, but it was more richly appointed than Marilla's, by virtue of the fact that it was within a nice town house rather than a farm house. It was just a different level of sophistication.

Barely glancing at the furnishings though, Marilla only had eyes for her dearest friend in extremis. "Alice" she called gently.

Alice looked up, she was feeling awful and unwilling to admit visitors. However, when she saw who it was she immediately changed her mind, she knew Marilla commiserated with her as no one else could.

"Oh my dear." Alice sobbed in her arms. "Come, it's time for me to care for you, as you did for me."

"You know," Alice said reflectively, "it was easy enough for me to advise you back then. I see now how much harder it is to accept that advice."

"Nevertheless, it was good advice and I send it back to you ten-fold. You have to forgive yourself."

"I know, but it's easier said than done. Have you?"

"We had a beautiful family day at the beach shortly after you left. We gave each other leave to grieve and were able to think on happy memories. I think we all gave ourselves leave to forgive ourselves that day. As you said to me, all too many people would have put their children into an asylum. Out of sight, out of mind. You and I refused to do that, I think we need to acknowledge that, we know better than anyone that was the harder decision. We adored our babes, yes?" This said looking Alice directly in the eyes, "but keeping them at home was the less easy option."

Marilla stayed with Alice and Henry for a few days. Of course she was terribly sad for them both. She knew better than most what they had lost. Charlotte had been a dear little girl, it was tragic that she had died so young like Jamie. She did not have much time for sightseeing as Alice was not up to going out, but they had a beneficial time commiserating with each other. She was interested to see how Martha's place within the household was cemented. Alice had adopted Martha since she had seen them last. Alice admitted to Marilla that Martha had turned her life around. She felt forever beholden to her. Although it was considered unusual behaviour, Alice had decided to keep her on and provide her with an education. "Since when have I lived a conventional life, anyway Marilla? If I can provide a start in life for young Martha, I think it's the least I can do. I think the Good Lord above would approve." Marilla nodded, she agreed. Providing a good start in life for an orphan did indeed seem like a charitable occupation.

* * *

With thanks to **Mavors4986** for Mr Moosie, the perfect toy for any young Canadian.


	14. Chapter 14

Where is Anne while the Blythe and the Cuthbert families are living their lives? She of course is still around in this AU, so I thought I'd show you what her life consisted of at this time. This chapter is set a few years after my last one as Jack and Anne are a similar age. Content warning: implied potential sexual assault.

* * *

 **Wash Day**

Just as she'd found a warm spot after a restless, noisy night, it was time to get up. Getting dressed in the gloomy half dawn light was always miserable, but it wouldn't do to sleep in. Anne Shirley wriggled into her thin, small dress, urinated into the chamber pot before collecting it and carrying it out to the back door. Not an action was wasted in Anne's busy day.

She walked downstairs quietly so as not to wake anyone else. Having gotten up, she enjoyed this brief quiet interlude. She had plenty to do, but at least her time was her own. Fetching kindling chopped the day prior, she rekindled the stove by blowing gently on the coals to coax the fire back into life. That done, she fetched several buckets of water from the well outside, her strong wiry arms making quick work of the pump. As it was wash day she would need gallons. The buckets were heavy, and she left some outside the back door for use later in the day. If she was lucky one of the older boys might be persuaded to bring them in for her. She took some inside to pour into the kettle to boil for coffee. Whilst she was carrying out these tasks her internal monologue was going nineteen to the dozen. No one in the family paid her much mind, except to punish her, so she relied on herself for company. Blast, was that a baby crying already? That was her solitude over for the day.

As she tip-toed up to the screaming baby, though why she bothered in all that racket, she wasn't sure; she peeked in at the Hammonds bedroom door which was cracked open for some reason. They were laid across each other in disheveled sheets. Anne could see his naked leg, one breast peeked out from her nightgown. No wonder they had interrupted her sleep last night.

Knowing Mrs Hammond, she would have taken a laudanum to get her through the day. That was a mixed blessing for Anne. Mrs Hammond would be more mellow until it wore off, but she would be next to no help with the laundry. Before that commenced however, it was Anne's job to get the children up and fed and fix the older ones some lunch to take to school.

She took each baby out of their cot and changed their diapers, scraping the contents into the chamber pot and dumping the soiled diapers at the doorway to be collected later. Once the children were dressed she left them alone for a minute while she took the soiled rags downstairs to the laundry tub. Returning to the bedroom she picked up the twins, one in each arm and carried them downstairs to the kitchen. They could watch her work. She hurriedly placed a few handfuls of oats into a saucepan and stirred it briefly with some water and placed the pan on the stove to cook.

She could hear Mr Hammond stirring. He stomped down to the kitchen and sat down at the table. He stank of whatever he had been up to last night, a strange smell unlike anything Anne smelt elsewhere, somewhat earthy, mixed with the whisky on his sour breath. She did not like being alone with Mr Hammond. He unnerved her, there was something about the way he looked at her. Sometimes he brushed against her, lingering slightly too long in his movements. He would lick his lips when he spied her. Mrs Hammond would employ him to whip her if she had neglected her many duties which also did not endear him to her; but even without that excuse he was not a pleasant man to have in her vicinity.

She poured him a cup of coffee and set it down. He reached out his soil stained right hand with the black hair on the knuckles, and held hers as it came within his reach. He stroked her wrist with his thumb, feeling the fine bones there. Anne stood stock still, blood roaring in her ears. The thump of her heart was so loud, she was sure he could hear it too. His dark hooded eyes were looking up at her with a sickly smile on his face, "How old are you now, girl?"

"I'm ten sir."

"Hmm, too young yet" he murmured, "there's time still." He turned her wrist over the better to examine it. The older boys rattled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mr Hammond dropped Anne's hand suddenly and she snatched it away as soon as it was free. "I didn't hurt you girl. Don't act as though I burnt it" he whispered sharply.

Anne surreptitiously washed her hand where he had touched it. In a way it was a good thing it was laundry day, perhaps with enough scrubbing she could get rid of the sensation of her small hand enveloped in his massive paw? She shivered to think what his words, 'There's time yet' meant.

The boys sat down, and she slopped oatmeal into their bowls. It may have been lumpy, but it was warm and filling. Just the thing for a cold morning.

Once the big children, in this she included Mr Hammond in a small act of internal rebellion, had left for the day she was able to feed the babies. It was a messy and time-consuming job. Baby Silas waved his spoon around spraying oatmeal around his person. Once he had finished she supposed she would have to change him again. "C'mon just eat it will you." she beseeched him. Once they had finished she had a few mouthfuls of the cold oatmeal, just enough to sustain her.

The water on the stove was bubbling. She took it off the boil and walked upstairs to strip the beds and collect the chamber pots. Mrs Hammond was still asleep, due in part Anne supposed, to the drug she had taken last night. It was annoying because Anne needed to strip her bed too. She had to get all the sheets in the tub early in the morning to have a chance at getting them dry by bed time. Although she hated to upset her employer, she knew what had to be done. Reaching down she shook Mrs Hammond gently by the shoulder and whispered, "Wake up Mrs Hammond, I need your sheets."

"Wha?"

"It's Monday Mrs Hammond, I need to wash the sheets."

With an unexpected flourish Mrs Hammond rose up and smacked Anne across the mouth. "Don't you ever wake me like that, you wench. I was having the most delightful dream, now you've gorn and ruined it."

Anne's mouth smarted from the smack, but she was used to it, it was precisely what she had feared. She should have been more careful to avoid the worst of it. Though sometimes if Mrs Hammond didn't smack her properly, according to some internal reckoning; she returned for a second go.

"I'm so sorry for interrupting your dream, Mrs Hammond, but I need the sheets. It's washing day."

Extremely grumpily Mrs Hammond rolled over, giving Anne access to the bed clothes. She did not get up and help, in fact she did not get up at all and soon fell back into her drug addled sleep.

Anne gathered the bedclothes and made her way downstairs to commence the arduous task of laundry. She plonked the sheets in the copper and poured hot water over them. While she was waiting for them to soak she tipped the contents of the chamber pots into the cesspit, scrubbed them clean and replaced them in the bedrooms.

Next taking some home-made soap, she soaped and rubbed the dirty clothes until they were clean. She hand wrung them through the wringer and placed them in a second bucket. Then repeated the action with the clothes inside out. A day of laundry, with her hands in cold water caused chilblains. Anne would rub egg on them if she got a chance when cooking. Turning wet clothes inside out was a messy and difficult process, especially with Mr Hammond's big shirts. If Mrs Hammond saw even one cuff graze the floor she was liable to strike Anne.

The linen had to be boiled. Afterwards the sheets were so hot they had to be removed from the water using long sticks. Next all the items had to be rinsed in fresh water and wrung out once again. The Hammonds had a clothing line, and in the breeze the wet sheets would wrap themselves around her in a cold clammy embrace. Laundry took hours and by the end Anne was cold and shivering, despite the hard physical labour.

Daydreaming was Anne's only escape. In her dreams she could wander wherever she wished. Today she was Princess Cordelia, trapped in a high tower, about to be rescued by handsome Prince Charming. She would get lost in the details. That was not such a problem when she was doing boring tasks like laundry. Sometimes though a daydream would start when she was supposed to be cooking dinner. That never ended well, but the dreams were so delightful and the work such a drudge that Anne could never resist.

Halfway through the twins started to complain, because despite all this extra work, it was also Anne's job to tend to them. She gave them a husk of bread to chew and that made them happier for the present.

Halfway through the chore, Mrs Hammond languidly came downstairs, still dressed in her dressing gown which half covered her nightgown, though Anne was pleased to see her breast was now covered up. Mrs Hammond still had a drug affected air about her, causing her to slightly slur her words. "Ann, ge me a cu of coffee, you lazy brat."

"Yes Mrs Hammond, sit yourself down, and I'll bring it over straightaway."

"Did you empty and scrub the chamber pots?"

"Yes Mrs Hammond."

"Did you light the stove?"

"Yes Mrs Hammond."

"Did you change the twins?"

For nice babies, thought Anne, "Yes Mrs Hammond."

"How's the laundry going?"

"I've washed the clothes and I've started the sheets, Mrs Hammond." That made her sit up and take notice. "What you haven't finished yet?"

"N, n, no. Mrs Hammond. I've nearly done it all. Just a few left to do."

"I know you girl, you got lost in your dratted daydreams again, didn't you? You should have the dinner on by now. You know what Mr Hammond's like if his meal is late. Do you like being whipped? I think you must get some sick pleasure out of it."

"Please no, I'll be good. I'll get them done quickly and get started on the dinner."

"You better girl." Scratching her bottom, Mrs Hammond strolled over to the chamber pot in the corner, lifted her skirts and squatted down, letting loose a healthy stream of urine into the pot. Then farting luxuriously, she strained slightly, and Anne wrinkled her nose as it became apparent that urine was not the only reason for Mrs Hammond's trip to the pot.

"Fetch me some Gayetty's* paper, you useless girl."

"Yes Mrs Hammond." Anne had to make do with cloth which she later washed, but the Hammonds used the relatively expensive Gayetty's paper. They weren't going to waste the good stuff on her slatternly bowels though, as they told her often enough.

Mrs Hammond stood up and went to talk to the twins cooing over them briefly before she lost interest. "I s'pose I had better get dressed, or Mr Hammond will think I'm lazy." She smirked and walked back to her bedroom to decide what clothes to put on for the day, leaving Anne to finish the laundry.

Mrs Hammond giggled at the thought of her night. Her mother had always told her it was depraved to enjoy the pleasures of the bedroom, but Mr Hammond was an attentive husband and Mrs Hammond didn't see why it was sinful; she could have done without all the children though. It was just her lot to have three sets of twins too. That lazy Ann Shirley with her daydreaming ways didn't help a jot.

Anne quickly finished off the sheets and hung the rest out to dry. Taking armfuls of fresh sheets from the linen cupboard she made the beds in all the bedrooms as quickly as possible. Next it was time to think about dinner. There was some boiled pork left over and that with some beans and potatoes would have to do.

The children returned home chatting about their day. Mostly they did not like school. Anne was greatly envious, she would have loved the mental stimulation of an education. She had taught herself to read when she first came to live at the Hammond's and occasionally Mrs Hammond would take pity on her and lend her a novel. That was how Anne came to read her favourite book of all time, Jane Eyre. Anne identified with the orphaned Jane and hoped she would find someone to love and who would love her back one day.

Anne scrubbed the potatoes and set the beans on the stove to cook. Mr Hammond was due home soon and he expected his tea when he came in. The family sat down at the dinner table. It was a rowdy affair. Anne placed the food in the middle and they all dug in. The silence as they all ate was a blessed relief. Mrs Hammond would take a small portion out of the pot and place it in a bowl for her. She was not allowed to serve herself in case she took more than her fair share. Anne was constantly hungry, she had never had a full stomach in all her ten years.

After chopping some firewood for the morrow and banking the stove. It was time for Anne to fall into bed. She rarely dreamed, instead sleeping soundly in her narrow bed until she had to get up and do it all again the next day.

* * *

*Joseph Gayetty is widely credited with being the inventor of modern commercially available toilet paper in North America. Gayetty's paper, first introduced in 1857, was available as late as the 1920s. Gayetty's Medicated Paper was sold in packages of flat sheets, watermarked with the inventor's name. Original advertisements for the product used the tagline "The greatest necessity of the age! Gayetty's medicated paper for the water-closet."


	15. Chapter 15

Trigger warning: This chapter deals with pregnancy and loss.

 **Absent Child**

Marilla wasn't sure, but she had an inkling that she might be in the family way again. To be honest she had lost track of the last time her blood had come; the weeks had a way of sliding together. But her breasts felt tender and her sense of smell was particularly acute. She felt more tired than usual and found herself napping at inopportune moments.

John came in for his afternoon tea and found Marilla asleep, her head resting on her arms at the kitchen table. He left her to it and fetched himself some tea and found a plate of scones in the pantry. She stirred as he poured the tea and looked up bewildered. "Oh, I um just fell asleep for a bit there."

"No matter, sweetheart. Would you like some tea?" Marilla took one look at him and burst into tears. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know, I don't know I just, I just..." with that she ran out of the room, leaving a mystified John in her wake.

Rather than following her, John drank his tea and nibbled on a scone. Then, taking a cup with him, he followed Marilla outside. She had a spot in the barn she usually ran to when she needed some time on her own and that was where he found her. Without a word he handed over the tea and sat down beside her. She leant next to him and sobbed into her teacup. "You'll make your tea salty." was all he said as he handed her his sweaty handkerchief. Placing her cup on the straw next to him, he put his arms around her and held her as she sobbed. murmuring words of love, but asking for no explanation.

Eventually her sobs calmed down to the occasional hiccup. She looked up saying "I've no idea what that was about." John got up and put his hand out to help Marilla to her feet and they walked hand in hand back to the house.

The next day she felt different, irritable and tetchy. She snapped at the children over breakfast and had to walk away when Jack spilt his milk. John followed her out to the veranda. "Something's up, love."

"I think. I don't know, but I think I might be pregnant."

"You're getting on, do you think that's it, or?"

"It could be the other, my time?"

"How do you feel about that? If that's the case?"

"Sad, I suppose. We've been blessed with four beautiful children." She paused thinking of Jamie. John squeezed her shoulder as she looked up at him. It was a rare day without some reminder of their lost boy. The oddest things would strike a memory such as a dog barking, or how a sunbeam caught a floorboard at a certain angle. There was no sense to it.

"You don't feel too old to have another then?" John enquired.

"Well I might not get the choice. I do love babies so John. Another Jack or Eliza wouldn't be so awful would it?"

"It would be wonderful darling, just wonderful, but how would we cope with another Jamie?"

"Well I don't know if I am, let's just wait and see."

When they went back inside Eliza had tidied up the spilt milk. Jack came over to apologise and Marilla told them she was sorry she had lost her temper. With a small smile she told Jack not to cry over spilt milk. "Are you all right Mama?", Eliza asked. Marilla just smiled at her and told her she was fine.

A week later as Marilla lost her breakfast mid morning, her suspicions were confirmed. She had been scrubbing the floor when the nausea hit, she reached out for the bucket as the mess surged upwards out of her stomach. She lay down on the wet floor for a moment in exhaustion and a little bit in fear. She was in her forties now, did she have the energy to go through all this again? The children were helping out at home, but they had their own lives to lead.

There was always the worry that she'd have another Jamie. She certainly didn't have the energy to go through that again, it was hard enough the first time. She remembered that afternoon her beloved father found her sobbing on the dock. It had never been spoken of outright, but she had been close to suicide that day. She had adored Jamie, he was her baby. But goodness she spent those ten years in an exhausted daze. She didn't think she could manage it again.

Once she recovered she got to her feet and went to find John. He was up a ladder, pruning apple trees in the orchard and looked down as she approached. "Anything the matter?"

"I've just confirmed our suspicions. I was ill just now."

John slid down the ladder in a rush and hugged her tight.

* * *

John was worried about Marilla. He shared her heartbreak over Jamie. She was older now, with less energy than before. Even if this baby was healthy, it would be a great deal of work, and if it wasn't?

John had adored wee Jamie. His round smiling face made him happy. Jamie never failed to squeal with excitement when he saw his Papa. He would jump up and down in the morning, or when John came in after a days' work. They had a ritual of washing around the water butt. John never understood very much of what Jamie said, but they were words of love regardless. Marilla carried the load, but John assisted where he could: helping to feed Jamie, keep him entertained, out of mischief, or change his diaper. John never believed toileting Jamie was wholly Marilla's role.

Sometimes, late at night, he would creep into Jamie's room to watch him sleep and imagine that he was an able bodied boy; someone he could have a conversation with, someone he might hand the farm to when he grew. None of this was possible, which made John terribly sad.

He overheard the whispers at church and in town. Universally the town's opinion was that he and Marilla were mad to bring the child up at home; that that they'd all be better off if they put him in a home, out of sight out of mind. People were uneasy when they saw Jamie, his laughing face didn't make them happy, it worried them. He served as a reminder of the dark side of life.

Unbeknownst to Marilla, John had investigated the Charlottetown Asylum when Jamie was young. He had gone to town to deliver a load of apples to the ship and dropped in while he was there. Its brooding brick walls behind a chain fence were unwelcoming. The matron ushered him in, and he felt the oppressive atmosphere of dread as soon as he crossed the threshold. John nearly retched at the rank smell of stale urine and boiled cabbage. There were distant cries of anguish. The children he did see were all dressed in the same rough cotton shifts and looked thin and unkempt. As he stood looking at them, he could see urine trickling down the leg of one child as she examined the contents of her nostril with relish. "Matron that child has wet herself." He exclaimed.

She merely replied "Well you can't expect me to be changing their diapers all bloomin' day." There was a distinct lack of empathy, as though the children were an inconvenience, no more. The whole place was unnerving and John backed out when the matron asked if he wanted to place a child with them.

He never mentioned his afternoon to anyone. He couldn't send Jamie there, no matter how bad their situation. He didn't think he could live with himself if he went through with it and he felt sure Marilla would never speak to him again.

Now Marilla was pregnant again. John hoped for another boy, but really if it were healthy that would be the most important thing. He didn't voice his thoughts or misgivings to Marilla, she had enough on her plate as it was.

* * *

The pregnancy continued as they ususally did for Marilla, she felt awful most of the time. She had told the family including Matthew and Nancy, and Rachel knew. In fact most of Avonlea knew, as she was too ill to attend the Ladies Aid or church. She tried to keep an eye on the housework, but she had no energy and had to carry a bucket wherever she went. The idea that a sick mother made for a healthy baby might be good in theory, but it was pretty miserable in practice. Luckily Eliza was old enough to be useful around the house and care for young Jack. Both were at school now, while Mary had gone to Queen's.

John came in from the barn for lunch one day. Marilla had gotten up and was sitting at the kitchen table, looking pale. "Can I get you anything to eat, darling?" John enquired.

"Maybe some bread?" She watched as John fetched the loaf and carved off a piece.

"Do you want anything on it?"

"No thank you, just plain." She nibbled at it tentatively. Hoping that some would stay down.

John hated to see her this way. Marilla looked miserable. When she had finished eating she slowly got up and shuffled back to bed, exhausted. He followed her up and tucked her in, making sure that she had a clean bowl. "How much longer will this go on do you think?"

"I hope I'm coming to the end of it. Just another week or so, judging by past pregnancies." John bent down and gently kissed the top of her head.

"I'll leave you to sleep now." She smiled back up at him wanly and closed her eyes.

* * *

Marilla woke up suddenly a week or so later. Her stomach cramped painfully. She cried out in agony feeling sharp pains. It was mid afternoon. John had gone to Carmody and the children were at school. She was all alone. She felt between her thighs, it was wet and when she looked at her fingers they were bright red with blood. "Oh no no no no no." She had never experienced a miscarriage, but felt sure that was what was happening.

Unbeknownst to her, John had asked Rachel to keep an eye on her while he was gone, so she was much relieved, a little while later, to hear Rachel call out "Anyone home?"

"Help, Rachel. I need help." Rachel rushed upstairs and was dismayed to find Marilla laying in a pool of blood.

* * *

Marilla had many emotions swirling around. She took her feelings to the minister, she needed some perspective.

She knocked on the door of the manse and was admitted. Reverend Morton asked her to sit down.

"Mrs Blythe, I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"Are you troubled?"

"I am. I think I'm a horrible woman."

"How so?"

"I'm terribly sad that I lost my baby, of course, though way down deep inside I'm relieved too. But that feeling of relief makes me feel guilty."

"Marilla, that doesn't make you a horrible woman. Considering your history it just makes you human. You loved your Jamie, I know and you would have loved this one too, regardless of their situation." Marilla nodded with tears in her eyes. "Did you have these conflicting feelings when you were pregnant with Jack?"

"Yes, but it was different, for one my parents were alive, they were a great comfort and support to me with Jamie; and also I was younger. I had more energy. It was hard enough the first time, I don't think I could cope now."

"There are places..."

"No." Marilla's tone was so firm that the minister didn't dare pursue that line of conversation.

John also paid the reverend a visit. John had a better understanding of asylums than Marilla. When the minister suggested it to him he asked " Have you actually ever set foot in one of those places Rev?"

"Well no."

"I have. And a more miserable place I never hope to go. I could never leave a child I loved in a place like that."

* * *

In bed that night he asked her "How are you really, Mar? You don't seem as dismayed as I'd expect."

"I don't know John. I'm sad of course, losing another life is a terrible thing, but..."

"But?"

She looked at him, hesitating, would he hate her for what she was about to say? "But, in a way I'm relieved."

"Oh?"

"I realise I was terrified of having another Jamie." She replied with a gasp, she hadn't realised how relieved she would be when she acknowledged her feelings. "Do you think I'm a monster for feeling that way?"

"If you are then so am I, for I feel the same way." John reassured her.

"It's such a relief to know you do too. I thought it was just me."

"It's never just you, sweetheart. It's always us."

They went to sleep wrapped in each other's arms. Safe in the knowledge that they would always be together, through thick and thin.


	16. Chapter 16

With thanks to Elizasky and Kim Blythe for their inspiration.

* * *

"How was school today Jack?"

Thirteen-year-old Jack was thriving at school. He was a popular boy and good at his lessons. He particularly liked math, but he could turn his hand to any subject with almost no effort.

"There's some new kids. "

"From the same family?"

"Yeah, the Blewetts."

"They must have moved house; they used to live at White Sands. How old are they?

"Pretty young, they have a girl who brings them. She didn't stay though."

"How old is she?"

"I dunno, she looks younger'n me."

"Oh dear. What did she look like?"

"She was really skinny Ma. She had a small grubby dress on and she was really dirty. She had hair as red as carrots."

"Poor thing."

"Yes, she waved goodbye to the children and they just scowled at her. She stood looking forlornly at the school house and then turned away. She seemed to be limping a bit."

"So, she didn't come into the school house?"

"No."

"But she's school age?"

"Yes. She looked so thin Ma. I saw the look of longing when she handed over their lunch."

"She carried their lunch pails for them?"

"Uh huh." Jack nodded. "Is there anything for afternoon tea?" Absentmindedly Marilla fetched him some milk and cake.

* * *

As Jack was getting ready for school the next day Marilla beckoned him over saying, "Jack do me a favour, if you see that girl with the Blewetts again, try to slip her a sandwich."

"Yeah Ma."

"Don't make a big fuss about it. I don't want her to be embarrassed."

Before school started Jack saw the red-haired girl deliver the Blewett children to school again. He shuffled over and offered his spare sandwich, saying "My Ma packed too much, would you like a sandwich?"

The girl's eyes widened at the sight of the food. "Really?"

"Yeah, take it, I don't want it."

Scarcely believing her luck, the girl politely took the sandwich. Her mouth watered and it took all her will not to stuff it into her mouth in one fell swoop. She had gotten into trouble yesterday afternoon for burning the supper and Mrs Blewett had withheld dinner and breakfast. As Jack wandered off she could no longer wait, and she wolfed the sandwich down in a couple of bites.

It became somewhat of a habit. Jack always seemed to have plenty of food and he was willing to share it. They didn't talk much, but he would hand a sandwich over and she would receive it gratefully. Once he had a spare raspberry tart and gave her that too. The girl didn't think she'd ever eaten anything so delicious in her life. She tried to thank him profusely, but he waved her away and told her his Ma was always overly generous.

* * *

Jack learnt her name over the course of the next few days. He told Marilla "I found out the girl's name today."

"What is it?"

"Her name's Anne. With an E."

"Anne. That's a nice name. It's getting colder now. Has this Anne got a coat?"

"No, she just has a shawl she wraps around her dress. She always looks pretty cold."

Marilla frowned.

One day Jack told her that Anne had a nasty big bruise across one cheek. Marilla marched out to John. "I can't stand by while this child is being maltreated, John. It isn't Christian."

"What can we do, Marilla? We can't go and rescue her. She belongs to the Blewetts now."

"Belongs? She's not a beast of burden. She's a little girl. From the sounds of it, a mistreated little girl. I can't sit idly by and watch her suffer."

"Watch? You've never clapped eyes on the child, Marilla."

"Well I mean to today."

"Don't do anything rash." John warned.

* * *

After Jack had left for school Marilla hitched the horse to the buggy and drove down the road to the Blewett house. She found the little girl in the yard fetching water, and got her first look. She wore a very tight ugly dress of yellowish-grey wincey. Cascading down her back were two braids of very thick, decidedly red hair. Her face was small, white and thin, also much freckled; her mouth was large and so were her eyes which were grey tending to green. A greenish bruise covered one cheek and her eye was nearly closed over.

"Good morning." Marilla greeted her. "Is your mother in?"

"Good morning. She isn't my mother, but she's in yonder." Anne said gesturing with her head.

"I'm Jack's mother, Mrs Blythe."

"Oh."

"Do you like living here?"

"I hate it. She's mean to me. Last night she beat me because I forgot to bring her some tea."

Marilla shuddered. "Have you lived with the Blewetts for long?"

"Not long, before this I was at the Hopetown Asylum and before that I worked for two different families."

"How old are you?"

"I'm eleven, ma'am."

"Jack says your name is Anne, is that correct?"

"With an E, ma'am."

Marilla smiled at her insistence. "Anne, I'm worried that the Blewetts aren't looking after you. I mean to have a little word with Mrs Blewett right now." As Marilla finished speaking Mrs Blewett herself came out onto the veranda to yell at Anne for being so slow. When she saw Marilla standing there she changed tack and obsequiously asked Marilla how she could help her.

"I've just been talking with Anne here."

"Lazy girl. I don't keep you here to talk to your betters. Git a move on."

"It was my fault, Mrs Blewett. I just wanted a word with her."

"Why?" Mrs Blewett's rat-cunning eyes looked speculatively at Marilla.

"My son has met her at school and we are worried you might be mistreating her."

"Mistreating _her_? How about how useless she is? She's lazy and slow and gets lost in day-dreams. She's a drain on this family. I feed her and then I have to push her all day long."

"She's only eleven Mrs Blewett."

"Pah" Mrs Blewett spat on the ground. "She's a good-for-nothing. If you think I'm so terrible to her, you take her then." She aimed a kick at Anne, but Marilla interceded and whisked Anne out of the way.

She turned to Anne and enquired if she had anything she needed to bring with her. Anne shook her head "No."

"Very well, if that is your attitude, Mrs Blewett, Anne and I will be on our way."

* * *

Anne was rather mystified by this turn of events, she wasn't sure why Mrs Blythe had interceded. As they walked away she turned to Marilla and asked, "Do you have many children?"

That question always caused Marilla some pain, but she answered truthfully, "I have three children. Mary and Eliza are grown up and married, and Jack is thirteen. I had another boy, but he passed away."

"Do you need much help then?"

"Help? I don't need any help. Oh..." Marilla realised why Anne had enquired. "Anne, I have not rescued you so you can help run my house. I came to get you so you can be spared that fate."

"Oh!" Anne's face lit up at that news. "May I go to school?"

"Yes, you may."

"I've always longed to go to school, but it's rarely been possible."

"Tell me, Anne, why are you limping?"

"Oh she pushed me down the stairs the other day and I twisted my ankle. It'll be better soon, I'm sure."

Marilla was pleased she had intervened.

* * *

When the buggy arrived at the Blythe homestead, Marilla and Anne alighted. "Here is your new home, Anne. I hope you like it." The house looked very fine, with a neat garden surrounding it. They walked in and Anne was pleased to see how lovely it was. The kitchen was warm and smelt of delicious baked goods.

Anne watched with interest as Marilla filled buckets with water and set them to warm over the fire. Marilla ladled some stew into a bowl and set it in front of Anne. "Here you go, I'm just giving you a little at first. If you eat too much you're liable to lose it."

Anne tentatively took her first mouthful of the warm and nourishing meat. It was all she could do not to stuff the lot into her mouth with her fingers, but she continued to eat as daintily as possible. Marilla looked on approvingly. "Is it all right?" Unwilling to stop, Anne just nodded.

When she had scraped the bowl clean, she looked up at Marilla with her great grey eyes and whispered, "Thank you."

"We'll bathe you next. When did you last have a bath?"

Anne looked at her and imperceptibly shook her shoulders. It was so long ago she didn't remember.

"Oh dear." Marilla poured water into the tub and helped Anne undress. She was dismayed to see that her thin white body was covered in bruises at various stages of healing. The poor thing had been comprehensively abused over a long period of time. Marilla made no comment, though a tear trailed down her cheek. Upon washing Anne's hair, she spied a small bug crawling through her hair. Ugh, lice. It shouldn't have surprised her.

Once she had been thoroughly soaked and scrubbed, Marilla left her in the bath water while she hunted out an old dress of Eliza's. "This is a bit too big for now, but I'll take it in later. Anne gazed at the new, to her, dress with delight. It looked warm and clean. After she had gotten dressed she asked Marilla what she would like her to do. "You could help me prepare dinner, if you don't mind?"

Anne was unaccustomed to being asked to help in such a kind manner and eagerly accepted. As they shelled the peas, Marilla asked about her history.

Anne told her "My parents were Walter and Bertha Shirley, they died of a fever when I was just three months old. I was taken in by the Thomases, and when Mr Thomas died, I moved to the Edwards. Mr Edwards died in a work accident and they sent me to the asylum. I was only there a few months when a lady in Summerside sent for one of the asylum girls. Mrs Blewett heard about it and sent for me. I've been there ever since.

"Were Mrs Thomas or Mrs Edwards nice to you?"

"We-ll" said Anne, unwilling to appear ungrateful, "I'm sure they meant to be nice. It just didn't always work out. Mrs Blewett didn't even try. I probably shouldn't speak ill of my elders, but…"

"No need, Anne. I know what Mrs Blewett is like." Marilla commented with a frown.

* * *

John came in for his afternoon tea and was surprised to find a small girl at the kitchen table. Marilla had ducked out to fetch some more water, so they were alone. "Good afternoon, who are you?" enquired John.

"Please sir, I am Anne Shirley. I met your son at school."

"Hm, and what, pray tell, are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure, Mrs Blythe brought me here."

Marilla reappeared at that moment. She and John stared at each other. "Anne, would you give us a moment, please. You can take this piece of bread outside."

Once Anne had left John furiously rounded on Marilla. "Now what have you done? You can't pick up stray children Marilla. She has a home, she should stay there."

"John, she didn't have a home at all. She was being abused there. You should see her back, it's covered with bruises. I wouldn't leave Jamie in an asylum and I won't leave Anne at that harridan's house. If you think I'll take her back to that place, you can think again."

John felt incurring the name of Jamie was below the belt but conceded that she did have a point. They were not in the habit of relegating small children to abusive situations. He wasn't ready to concede the argument quite yet though. "Are you sure she was abused? Children can make up all sorts of stories."

"She's barely said anything, John. She didn't have to, the bruises, cuts and abrasions tell their story. She's got lice and is covered in flea bites. She is staying here."

"To what end?"

"So she can have a childhood."

"And for how long?"

"Until she gets married."

John rolled his eyes and finished his tea. "I won't be involved then, you can bring her up."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Just be polite to her, please. She's suffered so much."

"Yes, I'll be polite. No more."

* * *

Jack came home from school shortly afterwards. Unlike his father, he was delighted to see Anne sitting by the kitchen fire. "G'afternoon, Anne."

"Good afternoon Jack."

"Jack, Anne is going to live with us now." Marilla explained.

"How wonderful." Jack was happy to have a younger sibling. Being the baby of the family had its drawbacks. Now that both his sisters had left home, he was rather lonely, Anne might provide some company. He knew she had lived a life of deprivation and being a generous soul, Jack was happy to share his good fortune with her.

"Jack, perhaps you would like to show Anne around the farm?"

"Sure Ma. C'mon Anne."

Marilla finished preparing the dinner and called the family in. The four of them sat down. Anne was unfamiliar with the saying of grace, but she picked it up soon enough. John scowled, while Marilla just smiled encouragingly. "For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful."

There was plenty of delicious food and Anne enjoyed her dinner very much. Ordinarily she was not allowed to sit at the dinner table with the family, so the very act of sitting down with the Blythes was unusual to her. She kept attempting to get up to fetch things for the men, but each time, Marilla kindly placed her hand across Anne's to keep her seated. "There's no need." She murmured, but the action was so ingrained into Anne's psyche that it was a hard habit to break.

After dinner Jack gathered the dishes. Marilla would not let her help, but Anne insisted. She felt she had to express her gratitude in some manner. Once the dishes were done, Jack had some homework to finish for school the next day. Anne tried, and failed, to stifle a massive yawn. Noticing her, Marilla decided she had better show Anne where she was to sleep. During the afternoon Marilla had made up her bed with fresh sheets. She would be in the room the girls had shared before they moved away.

Anne snuggled down into the warm and comfortable bed. It had been a long and astonishing day. "Good night Anne." Marilla smiled down at her.

"Good night Mrs Blythe. Thank you for rescuing me."

"It was my pleasure, Anne. Sleep well."


	17. Chapter 17

"Gotcha! There's another one." Marilla dropped a dead louse into the bowl. She was going through Anne's hair with a fine-toothed comb in the hunt for lice and their eggs.

Anne had laid her head on a towel spread across the kitchen table where the lamp light was brightest. The eggs caught the light making them easier to see. Marilla used her fingernails to pull the egg off the strand of hair and dumped each one in the bowl. They had amassed quite a few by this stage.

Anne's long, thick hair meant it was a big job. Marilla had said it might be necessary to cut Anne's hair, but at the look of dismay on Anne's face, softened and said she would try this method first. It was painstaking work though, and Marilla's eyes were feeling the strain.

John walked in as they were at it and rolled his eyes. "You'll have to cut it. You'll go blind doing it that way Marilla."

Anne felt a small sob escape her throat. She desperately didn't want to lose her hair, but she did feel guilty at the effort Marilla was prepared to go through on her behalf.

* * *

Her first day with the Blythes she spent mostly asleep. She had never slept in such a warm and comfortable bed. No one woke her, so she slept on. Marilla poked her head in a couple of times, but she didn't see the need to disturb Anne, figuring she must be absolutely exhausted.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Anne woke up. She opened her eyes and looked around confused. Where was she? What time was it? What was this bed? Was she in heaven? She looked down at her night gown. It certainly wasn't the one she usually wore, that grimy coarse item was uncomfortable and scratchy. It came flooding back. Jack's mother had rescued her. Thank God. Anne wasn't sure how long she could have borne living with the Blewetts.

Anne thought of that moment when 'Mrs Reed', (as Anne called Mrs Blewett, after the mean woman in her favourite novel, _Jane Eyre_ ) tried to kick her and Mrs Blythe had intervened, no one had ever defended Anne before. That was the moment when she thought her fortune might have changed.

She looked around the room for the first time, last night she had been too tired. It was furnished with a lovely rug by the bed, had light yellow striped wallpaper with a flower design, and lacy curtains against the window. It felt warm and inviting. The bed was covered with a beautiful quilt and the down pillows were soft and comfortable. In short it was the most beautiful room Anne had ever been in, let alone slept in. Even her daydreams weren't a patch on this room, a _real_ beautiful room was nicer than any dream.

She heard a gentle knock at the door and Marilla entered. "Good afternoon, Anne. Did you sleep well?"

"Good afternoon. Afternoon? Oh, my goodness, I'm sorry Mrs Blythe, I had no idea."

"It's fine Anne. I figured you needed that sleep."

"I did Mrs Blythe. I was exhausted. I've never slept in such a lovely bed. It was as if a fairy tale came true."

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm famished."

"Very well, here is a dressing gown, put it on and come out to the kitchen for something to eat."

Marilla gave Anne a sandwich and some milk and sat down opposite her while she ate.

"I would like to take you to the doctor tomorrow, I'm a bit worried about some of those bruises and your ankle might need some attention."

* * *

The next day Anne got up with the rest of the family and wore the dress Marilla had fixed for her. They ate breakfast together, chatting about the day ahead. Marilla handed her a coat, scarf, hat and gloves to wear on their trip to town.

A cold wind was blowing and Anne was happy she was well rugged up in warm clothes. As they drove, Marilla told Anne about Jamie, she figured she should know about her new family.

"That sounds very sad, Mrs Blythe. He sounds like a lovely boy."

"He was that. He was very loving. He was always hugging us all."

"Do you have any other family, Mrs Blythe?"

"I have a brother, Matthew. He lives nearby. He's married and has two step-children."

"Do you have any grandchildren? You mentioned your two older daughters were married?"

"Not yet, but Mary is in the family way. She's due next year."

"That's exciting."

Marilla glanced at her with a smile. "Yes, it is. I'm looking forward to being a grandmother."

They arrived in town and Marilla parked the buggy by the doctor's surgery. The doctor was available. "I would like you to examine Anne here, Doctor Hughes. I rescued her from a place in town yesterday, and I'm concerned about some of her bruises."

Somewhat embarrassed, Anne undressed in front of the doctor, she was pleased that Mrs Blythe was on hand. The doctor looked at Marilla in shock, it really was a terrible sight. "I think she should be all right after a few days, Mrs Blythe. She just needs plenty of rest and nourishing food. I'm sure you can manage that. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, her ankle needs attention. She sprained it a few days ago."

"How did that happen, young lady?"

"Um, I fell down the stairs the other day, doctor."

Doctor Hughes glanced at Marilla who mimed a push with both hands, he frowned. "Well, let me just examine it for you." He prodded and pushed the ankle joint watching Anne's reactions. "I think it's just sprained, but I'm going to bandage it. Leave it like that for a couple of days, Mrs Blythe, and limit walking on it please, young lady."

Marilla hated to bring it up, but she felt she needed to know. "Do you think...?"

Doctor Hughes shrugged. "Hopefully not, but she's too young for it to be an issue." Anne was getting dressed, oblivious of their conversation.

* * *

Anne limped behind Marilla as they walked back to the buggy. Suddenly Mrs Blewett appeared from around the corner. "Aha, gotcha, you little sneak. So much for running away, girl. It's time to come home. I need you to do the laundry." She grabbed Anne by the arm as she said this and tried to drag her off.

Marilla heard Mrs Blewett and quickly dashed back to stop her. Anne found herself in the unenviable position of being grasped by two different women pulling her in separate directions, like a rag doll in a tug of war.

Luckily the constable heard the commotion and came over to see what all the fuss was about. "Now now ladies. What's all this about then?"

Mrs Blewett spoke first. "This is my daughter, she ran away from home and I'm trying to get her back."

"And why are you stopping her?" He asked Marilla.

"She is not her daughter, Anne is her skivvy. Just take a look at her bruises and you will see. This woman has been abusing the girl."

"Who is right, little girl?"

Anne said "She" pointing at Mrs Blewett "has been hitting and starving me for months, she's not my mother. But she" she pointed at Marilla "rescued me and took me to the doctor."

"Come with me, I want to talk to this doctor."

The whole party followed him into the doctor's surgery. The doctor came out of his consultation room when he heard the noise. "Doctor, did you recently examine this child?" enquired the constable.

"I did."

"And what did you find?"

"I found a girl who has been systematically abused over the course of several months. She has extensive bruising consistent with that notion." The constable stared at Mrs Blewett who was unhappy about where this line of investigation was leading. Backing away she said "Well I just wanted a little bit of help with my children, I never did much to her. She's lazy, you have to give her a bit of encouragement now and again."

"Encouragement does not mean beating her. Madam, I would like you to accompany me to the police station." The constable took Mrs Blewett by the arm and lead her out of the surgery.

Marilla looked at Anne in relief. "Goodness, we were fortunate the constable happened to come along at just that moment. I hate to think of the reprisals she might have meted out to you if you had made it back to her place." Anne just nodded and took Marilla's hand.

The doctor called after them "Plenty of rest now and stay off that ankle."

* * *

Back at home they arrived just as Rachel Lynde turned up. With her uncanny knack of knowing everything that was going on around Avonlea, Rachel had heard rumours of Marilla's latest acquisition. She called out "Marilla Blythe, what have you gone and done now?"

Marilla turned around bracing herself for yet another blow. "Good afternoon Rachel, can I introduce you to Anne Shirley. Anne, this is my neighbour, Mrs Lynde."

"Good afternoon." Anne said politely.

Ignoring her, Rachel directed her comments to Marilla. "What's this about Marilla, have you gone out of your mind?" Glancing at Anne, she added "She's awful thin and scrawny, and look at her hair, it's as red as carrots."

Anne shrunk closer to Marilla in response to Rachel's rude outburst. Marilla said to her kindly, "Anne, you pop back into bed now. Your ankle needs to rest."

"Bed now? What on earth is going on?" Rachel retorted.

"Hush Rachel. If you had seen the way she was being treated you'd agree with me. I'm doing the Christian thing and saving a poor child in distress. Come in and I'll put the kettle on."

Over tea Marilla explained the situation, finishing off with a description of their afternoon.

"And what does John make of all this?"

"Well he's not terribly happy, but I expect he'll come around soon. She's a sweet little thing, she's just never had a chance."

"Well I don't understand you at all, Marilla Blythe. You're doing a mighty risky thing, that's what. As if all your children weren't enough work."

"I'm hardly busy nowadays, it's just Jack at home. He's delighted, before you ask. He's been a bit lonely here since Eliza left."

Anne came back out after Rachel had left, she found her rather intimidating. She sat down and scratched her head. Marilla had noticed her scratching it all afternoon. "I'll have a look at your head Anne, those lice won't be going away on their own and the last thing we need is for everyone to catch them.*

* * *

After dinner Anne made her way back to bed, still rather tired, but enjoying catching up on her sleep. She marvelled at her change in fortune; at the outset of the week she was being starved and beaten by 'Mrs Reed' and now she was living in the lap of luxury, being cared for by a kind hearted woman.

In her room Anne absentmindedly scratched her head. The lice were still itching, she supposed she had better do the right thing and agree to have her hair cut. It wasn't fair to make Mrs Blythe do all that work. She might get sick of her and send her back.

* * *

 _Avonlea  
_ _PEI_

 _Dear Mary_

 _I hope this letter finds you well darling. I thought you had better know that I have taken in a child. Her name is Anne Shirley. Jack met her outside the school and has been telling me her sad story for a few months now; she was orphaned as a baby and has been in service ever since. Lately she has been working for the Blewett family. I went to see if she was all right and brought her home. She is sleeping in your old bedroom. I mean to let her stay here indefinitely._

 _You probably think I am mad, but there is plenty of room in this house now that you two have left and it is just Jack here. Anne is eleven years old, so not a baby. I think we can offer her a real chance at a good life._

 _I hope you are feeling well. As you know pregnancy did not sit well with me for the first few weeks, but by now you should be over the worst of it._

 _I am_

 _Your loving Mother_

* * *

* Sorry I bet all your heads are itching now.


	18. Chapter 18

I love all your lovely reviews and suggestions/queries. They provide such scope for the imagination. Thanks also to my reviewers and lurkers.

* * *

 **Broken Child**

 _Summerside_  
 _November_

 _Dearest Ma_

 _What on earth are you thinking? A girl? Ma, this is ridiculous. We have enough people in our family already, we don't need any more._

 _What does Da think of it? And Jack? I can only imagine Mrs Lynde's reaction. Hopefully she and Da can make you see sense._

 _My belly is swelling. I actually look pregnant now. I haven't been too ill, just exhausted. I don't recall ever being so sleepy._

 _I hope you will come visit when it's my time. I'll need my darling ma with me when the baby is born._

 _Your ever loving daughter_

 _Eliza_

* * *

Eliza had married Robert McDougal a year prior and they were now living at Summerside. She had studied at Queens and gained a job teaching at the Summerside School after she graduated. There she had met Robert and became a regular at the store that Robert's family ran in town. They courted for a period and one day John and Marilla were delighted to receive a letter from Robert asking for Eliza's hand in marriage. It was expected that Robert would inherit the business when his father retired.

It was with mixed emotions that they waved their youngest girl goodbye after her wedding day. Happiness that she was embarking on this next stage of her life, tinged with the sadness of losing her. Rachel commiserated with Marilla as they watched the carriage drive away. "She's off to live her life now, Marilla, but she'll always be your little girl." Marilla smiled at her friend, Rachel knew this heartbreak only too well, several of her children had already fled the nest. Mary Blythe had already gotten married some years before and how had two healthy children.

* * *

Jack Blythe had grown up in the shadow of his deceased brother. As soon as he was old enough his parents had sat him down and explained who Jamie was. His older sisters remembered him fondly, though they were prepared to tell him in private that Jamie could drive them crazy. Still, they added, so could he. So nothing had changed, really; even though by six Jack was more mature than Jamie ever could be. He always felt as though he had to live both their lives; to attain the potential his brother never could, as well as his own.

His sisters were much older, so he was never particularly close to them, they had their own near adult lives, and had now left home. It hadn't occurred to him that Anne might ever come and live with him. His mother surprised him greatly when she brought Anne home, but that's not to say he wasn't happy with her decision. He had felt sorry for Anne and from what little he knew of her, she seemed nice enough. He was looking forward to having a younger sister. Someone he could show the ropes to, someone for company. It wasn't much fun around the place when he was the only child.

* * *

"Have you heard what that ridiculous Marilla Blythe has done now?"

"No?"

"She's stolen a home child. Means to bring it up herself."

"She always was the queen of lost causes."

"Yes, what a fool. Remember how she drove herself into the ground looking after her imbecile."

"And neglected the other children into the bargain."

"Yes, that's why we have places to send defectives to. What was she thinking? He would have been perfectly fine there."

John and Marilla rounded the corner, their faces in shock at what they had overheard. "Come away Marilla, there's nothing we can say." John declared.

Marilla looked at them, as hot tears splashed down her crimson cheeks. These were her neighbours, people she regarded as her friends.

* * *

In bed that night John opened his arms and Marilla snuggled into his side. They rarely disagreed and were unhappy when they did. Somehow talking in the pitch black made it easier. The proximity without sight gave them a sort of freedom to fully express themselves. "What's all this about Mar?" John asked, using his favourite nickname.

"She's a victim, John. I couldn't in all honesty leave her there. The minister preaches compassion, I'm just saving this one soul."

"You can't save them all."

"No, but I can save Anne. The doctor said it wasn't possible to know if she'd been molested and he didn't want to traumatise her further by examining her. Oh John I just have to give her a chance. Let me, support me, I can't do it without you. Once you get to know her, you'll see how special she is. If Jamie taught me anything it's that broken children deserve a chance at life."

"Very well, I think you are a little bit crazy, but I suppose that's not a bad thing. As you say, we gave Jamie a chance, I suppose we can give Anne one too. She can stay, with my blessing."

"Thank you darling, you won't regret it."

They stayed in each other's arms, stroking each other with loving and increasingly frantic caresses until John removed Marilla's nightgown and she his pyjamas.

* * *

The next morning John sat down as Anne limped out to the kitchen. She had told Marilla she might cut her hair, as much as she hated it. In fact, as she put it, it was the most _tragical thing_ , a phrase that made both John and Marilla smile. Very gently Marilla cut both plaits and trimmed Anne's hair down to the scalp. "I'm sorry Anne, I'm going to have to burn this". Anne nodded sadly, in an ideal world she could have kept it, but then in an ideal world she wouldn't have lice in the first place.

Later, Anne was reading in the parlour, her foot propped up on a pillow. Relaxing was still a novelty for her, one she was enthusiastic about getting used to. Though she was happy to help out as much as she could without using her foot. The weak, wintery sun was shining through the window casting light, but little warmth. The fire was crackling in the fireplace making the room snug and warm. John brought a load of wood in for the fire and noticed Anne looking up at him with her large grey eyes. He brushed off his pants and sat down on the armchair opposite her. "We haven't had a chance to chat yet, Anne."

"No sir."

"Can you tell me a bit about where you've come from?"

Anne told him the sorry tale, from her birth, through living with the three separate families. She omitted the grisliest bits, she didn't trust them enough to share that information yet. She was afraid if she told them too much they would think she was too difficult to raise, that she was trash. So she merely told him the sanitised version, omitting her fear of the various husbands, for what they did or what she feared they might do. She desperately hoped she could trust that Mr Blythe wouldn't commit any of those acts as she matured. He seemed nice, but she wasn't sure, yet. Yet she felt sure she could trust Mrs Blythe implicitly.

"I suppose Mrs Blythe has told you our history?"

"Yes sir, she told me about Jamie and the girls."

"Ah yes poor Jamie. Still he was a happy little chap. So, would you like to live with us, become part of the Blythe family?"

"I would, sir."

"Yes, well that would please me too. Welcome to the family, Anne."

* * *

Marilla drove Anne over to Green Gables one afternoon. She thought it was about time Anne met the rest of the family. Matthew loved his step daughters and nieces, she was sure he would like little Anne too. Matthew appeared from the barn as she drove in the driveway. "Good afternoon, sister. Who have we here?"

"Matthew, I'd like to introduce you to Anne Shirley, she is going to live with us now." Matthew had heard the gossip around town and was delighted to meet her. "I'm afraid she's hurt her ankle, can you carry her in?" Marilla requested. He gently lifted Anne out of the buggy and carried her indoors.

Nancy was at the door to greet them. "Goodness Matthew, who is this?"

"Good afternoon Mrs Cuthbert, I'm Anne Shirley."

"Goodness. Come in, come in. Don't let the warm air out."

They enjoyed a nice afternoon tea as they got acquainted. Nancy served cake and the adults took tea while Anne drank milk. As they waved Marilla and Anne goodbye, Nancy muttered "I hope she knows what she's getting into. It won't be easy bringing that waif up."

"Marilla has enough expertise in that department, don't you worry about her." Matthew replied. He could easily see why his dear sister had rescued Anne. She seemed a sweet little thing.

* * *

 _Avonlea  
_ _November_

 _Dearest Alice_

 _I'm sorry it has been a while since I last wrote, life gets in the way doesn't it, but that is no excuse._

 _I hope this letter finds you well. We are all fine here. Eliza is expecting her first child next year. I can't believe I will be a grandmother again, suddenly I feel old. As you might imagine I'm not in the least concerned with the sex, so long as God grants us a healthy child that is all I pray for._

 _Recently Jack, who by the way is now a strapping lad of 13, older than Jamie which I find hard to fathom, met a lass. No it's not what you think. She was a home girl, not given the opportunity to attend school. Instead she was beaten, starved and wholly unloved._

 _I went to investigate her situation for what Jack described to me about her worried me greatly. It was worse than I could have imagined. The girl, (Anne and you must spell it with an E, she is most insistent on that), was being systematically abused in every sense of the word._

 _In true warrior fashion Alice, rather reminiscent of the time I saved Jamie from those terrible Pye ruffians all those years ago, I swooped in and rescued Anne from her abusers. You would have been so proud of me._

 _Of course everyone from my darling John, to the girls, Rachel and the townsfolk think I have gone mad. But Alice, I could not in good conscience leave Anne in that terrible situation. It wasn't Christian._

 _Poor Anne was quite mystified initially, she thought I must be stealing her to work for me, poor little soul. I believe no one has even shown her kindness. Her gratitude at her new situation is pathetic. We are hardly wealthy as you know Alice, but Anne says she has never known such compassion. It just makes me cry._

 _I find I am enjoying her company. She is quiet still, I suspect she had to be, but there are flashes of little girl emerging. I have missed having girls about the place._

 _Yesterday I found myself remembering Jamie, and had a little weep, so silly after all these years. Anne saw and merely brought me a cup of tea and sat with me. It was very touching. Jack, for all his sweetness, doesn't have the same compassion, I doubt such actions would occur to him._

 _Anne sprained her ankle, so she is on near complete bed rest at present, in any case I do not think she will strong enough for school. I'm going to leave it until after Christmas. There is no rush, though I know she is keen to start. I had to cut her hair as she had a terrible lice infestation, did I mention her hair is bright red? She calls it the bane of her existence. I dare say she misses it right now, even red hair is better than no hair._

 _Looking back at my letter you have probably noticed that I have fallen in love with my little waif. I am sure it will be challenging to rear her; she is quite damaged, but it's not as though I have no experience rearing broken children, is it?_

 _I pray you and your family, including dear Martha naturally, are keeping well. How is her Ann, she must be about five by now, goodness how time flies?_

 _All my love dearest Alice_

 _Marilla_

* * *

 **A/N Chicken Whisper** my great grandfather was an orphan in Ireland too. Luckily he had the chance to come to Australia when he was 8. (still wish you'd register so we can chat).


	19. Chapter 19

**Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue** *

Anne's ankle had healed, her hair was growing back, and her bruises had faded. With good food and love, she was beginning to find her voice. Marilla decided it was time for her to begin her education, but first she wanted to introduce her to Diana Barry who lived nearby. She made a time with Mrs Barry to introduce the children and they went along to the Barry's house for afternoon tea one Saturday afternoon.

Diana Barry was quite the most divine creature Anne had ever laid eyes on. She had black eyes, raven black hair, rosy cheeks and the sweetest smile. Anne felt quite shy around her at first, particularly as her own hair was so lacking, but Diana soon put her at ease. Eventually she confided in Diana about her hair situation. Diana lamented the situation with her and told her it would grow back soon enough. What Diana lacked was an imagination, but Anne was able to make up for that. Anne told Diana stories and Diana made a willing audience. They swore to remain best friends for ever. Anne was smitten, she had never had a best friend before.

* * *

"Anne. I think it's time you started school."

"Oh, may I Mrs Blythe, thank you."

"That's another thing, you may call us John and Marilla."

"Thank you Mrs er ... Marilla."

"Now I made you a nice new dress and an apron to wear. It's nothing fancy but it will fit. The teacher will probably test you to work out what reader you are up to."

Tears sprang to Anne's eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"I haven't had much schooling Mrs - Marilla. I'll be stuck down the bottom, I just know it. The other children will tease me. And of course, there's my hair or lack of it."

"There, there child. If you apply yourself I'm sure you can catch up and your hair will grow. Jack will look after you as will Diana."

* * *

Jack accompanied a nervous Anne that Monday morning on their walk to school. The way was pretty, but Anne was too worked up to enjoy it. They met a stream of students as they got closer to the school. Anne knew the Blewett children came to school too, but they were in the younger grades. She looked at them curiously in the school yard, they seemed to be in a similar state to the last time she'd seen them. Little Catie nudged her older brother when they spied her, but they said nothing.

Jack pointed out a few of their classmates "Anne, that's Ruby Gillis and Tilly Boulter and that's Josie Pye over there." Anne saw that the girls were attractive and wore pretty dresses. She felt very dowdy in comparison, not only was her dress very plain, her hair was practically shorn off. Much to her delight, Diana Barry took her arm and introduced her to Josie and the other girls, leaving Jack to his own devices with the boys.

"What on earth happened to your hair?" Josie asked insistently, Anne just smiled as Diana deflected the comment. Diana knew why Anne had lost her hair but didn't think Josie had any right to ask a new student.

Diana showed Anne around the school and its environs, the school bell tolled and it was time to go in to class. Mr Philips took one look at Anne saying "Hmm, I thought we had a new girl arriving, go and sit with the boys." Anne blushed bright red as Jack interceded and explained the situation. Anne was directed to sit next to Diana.

The day did not improve. After testing her, Mr Philips put her on the second reader, Diana and Jack were on the fifth. Mr Philips said that ordinarily she would be placed in the junior class, but due to her advanced age that would not be appropriate.

At lunch Josie decided to pick on her, launching into a speech about how Mrs Blythe was obviously looking for a replacement for her imbecile from all those years ago. If Anne was only on the second reader at her age, she must be like Jamie. Josie had not been born when Jamie was alive, but she had overheard her mother discussing Anne and Jamie the other day. Mrs Pye had thought the situation most peculiar and surmised that Marilla Blythe was a loony for taking in a child of orphan stock. Anne was dumbfounded and had no comeback to such an outrageous comment. She just sat there, her cheeks going red.

On their walk home Jack asked her how her day had gone, and she quietly told him that it had been miserable. "Why?"

"Josie Pye." She replied vehemently.

"Don't take any notice of a Pye, they're all awful." He tried to placate her.

"I've met mean girls before. I think she's the worst."

She put on a brave face when they got home, but Marilla couldn't help but notice that Anne seemed quieter than she had expected. Assuming it had been a big day, she told her to go to bed after dinner. As they watched Anne walk up the stairs and out of earshot, she grilled Jack. "Do you know what happened?"

"I think it was pretty tough with her hair and all. She's been put on the second reader like the little kids. I think Josie Pye thought she was fair game."

"Those Pyes!" Marilla grumbled "They're a bad bunch."

* * *

The sneering tone of Josie Pye's voice reminded Anne of all the women she had ever worked for. "You're just a worthless piece of trash." "You're nothing." You're a good for nothing." "You're a worthless orphan." "You're lazy." If she closed her eyes she could see them all leering over her.

 _"No, no, no. Please no, no!" A menacing figure loomed over Anne, he grimaced at her, reached for her nightgown and whispered susurrations. She couldn't make out the words, but his intent was clear enough. "Get away from me, GET AWAY FROM ME!"_ Unbeknownst to her, she was enveloped in Marilla's warm and comforting embrace. Anne's eyes were wide open, but she was sound asleep.** This was not the first time Anne had woken them with her screams. Marilla knew there was no way to get through to her in this state, she held Anne until she relaxed, closed her eyes and went back to normal sleep. When she did finally awaken the next morning, she had no memory of her nightmare.

When it happened for the third night that week, John told Marilla to take Anne to the doctor. "It's not right Mar. she needs help."

"She's not mad, John. She's obviously experienced something very nasty."

The doctor agreed with her. "Mrs Blythe, I think she will be fine. Her mind is just sorting some unpleasant memories out."

* * *

School did not improve. Anne found her school work satisfying enough and had soon moved up a reader, but she was continually the brunt of Josie Pye's sharp tongue. Josie had taken to whispering "dummy" or "cretin" at her in odd moments, particularly when Anne stumbled over a long word or struggled to complete a sum. One day it was particularly awful, and Anne sat at her desk as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Jack asked her about it on their way home. "What's up Anne? Why is Josie affecting you so much?"

"She keeps telling me I'm just like your brother Jamie, Jack."

"What?" Jack's hand flew to his mouth in horror.

"Yes, every time I make a mistake in class she passes a note to me telling me I'm stupid like him. And I can't tell Marilla or John, can I? They'd be so upset."

"Oh! Golly! No."

"I've tried ignoring her, but I can't. It's horrible Jack."

"If she were a boy, I'd thump her. But I can't do that to a girl."

"I can't go on like this Jack. I need to make her stop. What shall I do?"

"I feel ill, Anne. That is just so, so awful. If Ma knew she'd be so upset."

"And I'm so worried about what Josie's going to say next, that I make more mistakes and then she says more mean things. She passes me notes in class that say imbecile or dunce or have mean pictures on them."

"I know!" Jack announced, "We'll ask Uncle Matthew. He'll have some good advice."

They turned the corner and headed to Green Gables.

"Well good afternoon Jack, Anne. This is a nice surprise." Matthew greeted them as they walked up. "What can I do for you this afternoon?"

"Uncle Matthew, we need some advice."

"From me?" Matthew was astonished. "Well come into the barn and tell me all about it."

They sat on some hay and Anne explained the situation. Matthew was appreciably shocked. After all this time, the town was still going on about wee Jamie. To his way of thinking Josie couldn't have come up with this stunt completely on her own, particularly as she wasn't born when Jamie was alive. She had to be following some lead, presumably from her mother.

He listened to the children and told them he would fix the problem. How he had no idea?

"Was that the Blythe children I saw you with this afternoon?" Nancy asked him that evening over dinner.

"Yes. They wanted some advice."

"Advice? Why were they asking you? Couldn't they ask Marilla or John?"

"No, they couldn't Nancy. It's to do with Anne and … Jamie."

"Jamie? Little Jamie who's been dead these many years? What on earth has he got to do with Anne?"

"A girl at school has made some insidious connection between Anne's lack of education and Jamie's affliction. She's teasing Anne about it every chance she gets."

"That little witch. Which girl is this?"

"Josie Pye."

Nancy had not lived in Avonlea as long as Matthew had, but she had heard of the Pye reputation for plain nastiness. It appeared their children were just as awful as the parents.

"So, what are you going to do, Matthew?"

"Well you know how much I love confrontation, Nancy."

"Which is to say, not at all."

"Indeed, but I have to speak up on this occasion. Poor Anne is miserable about the whole thing, and I cannot leave it to Marilla to solve. In fact, I can't tell Marilla about it at all."

"Do you want me to accompany you up there?"

"No, I feel I have to do this myself, Nance. Thank you anyway. Just be here for me when I return."

* * *

Deciding to strike while the iron was hot, Matthew rode up to the Pye place to have a talk with the family. Really, he hated this sort of thing, but he knew he had no choice. This was a terrible situation, one that was already hurting Anne and would wound his sister terribly if she knew anything about it. Over the years since Jamie was born and after he died, there had been ongoing comments made about Marilla and to a lesser extent John, concerning their decision to care for Jamie at home. The general consensus was the Blythes were cracked. Matthew had heard the comments, some of them were directed at him. Matthew should have counselled them to get rid of Jamie. He made the townsfolk uneasy, being all soft and huggy and loud and messy.

Matthew supported his sister's decision to keep Jamie at home and did all he could to support her, but he thought once Jamie passed away that the town could get over it. It wasn't to be apparently, Marilla's reputation as being a bit soft in the head was exaggerated by her decision to take in Anne. Still, if this chatter was transferred to the children that had to be stopped. It was bad enough to have Marilla being slandered in this manner, but Anne didn't deserve that treatment too.

Summoning all his courage, Matthew knocked on the front door. It was dusk, so Frank Pye was surprised to find the usually timid Matthew Cuthbert on his doorstep. "Good evening, Matthew, is something the matter, what can I do for you?"

"Yes, good evening, Frank. I would like to have a chat with you and your wife."

"Goodness, I hope nothing's wrong?"

Matthew made no reply until he was ushered into the parlour and sat down.

Frank and Clara leant forward attentively interested to hear what Matthew Cuthbert of all people, had to say to them this evening.

"It's about Anne Blythe."

"Anne Blythe, who is Anne Blythe?" Clara Pye retorted. "You don't mean the orphan girl your sister has taken in?"

"Yes, that's who I'm talking about."

"What on earth could you have to say to us about the orphan girl?"

"Anne tells me that your daughter, Josie is giving her a hard time at school."

Clara sat back and smirked. "Is she now? Well I don't know what that has to do with you and I don't know why it isn't Marilla sitting right where you are now?"

"Marilla doesn't know anything about it. Anne hasn't told her."

"She doesn't trust Marilla? What an ungrateful child, comes of being orphan stock I expect. They can be shifty."

"No, it's not that. Josie is comparing Anne to Marilla's son, Jamie. Anne doesn't want to upset Marilla with that information."

"She's doing what?" Frank retorted, as he turned to his wife. "That really is terrible, you know." He stood up and walked to the stairs and bellowed up for Josie to join them.

Josie strode into the parlour as bold as brass but stopped still when she spied Mr Cuthbert sitting on the sofa.

"Come and sit down Josie" ordered her father. "Mr Cuthbert has been telling about your behaviour at school. Seems you're not being very nice to his niece, Anne."

"I haven't done anything wrong," she whined as she turned to her mother.

"Seems you might be teasing Anne Blythe. Is that right?"

"Well, I might jest a little. It's all in good fun."

"Is it fun if the other girl cries?" Frank probed her.

"I can't help if it she's over-sensitive."

"Mr Cuthbert tells us you've compared her to the Blythe's older son, Jamie. Is that correct?"

"It's just a bit of fun when she gets things wrong is all. Anyway Mother told me about him."

Frank looked at Clara sharply.

"I said no such thing, Josie." Clara retorted. "I would never spread gossip like that."

"You didn't say it to me, Mother, but I overheard you talking to Mrs Gillis one day. You said…"

"Never mind what I said." Interjected Clara promptly with an eye to Matthew. "In any case you've had your fun. Now it is time to stop."

"Aw Ma."

"Yes, it is time to leave the girl alone, Josie." Agreed her father, "And if I hear of you doing it again, there will be trouble, do you understand me?"

The adults stood up and the men shook hands. "I'm terribly sorry about this Matthew. We'll put it all behind us. You can rest assured that Josie will leave Anne alone from now on."

"Thank you, Frank. And If you can keep this business away from Marilla's attention, I'd be pleased."

"Yes of course, of course. Very hurtful I'm sure."

* * *

"Phew! I'm glad that's over." Exclaimed Matthew, when he got home to his wife's embrace.

"How did it go?"

"Well, I think I got through. The girl was pretty unapologetic. Just shows you how careful you have to be around children."

"Well I'm very proud of you Matthew." Nancy said as she caressed his shoulder. I know you didn't enjoy it, but well done you for stepping up on behalf of the family."

"Thank you. Nancy, I appreciate that, especially as I won't be telling Marilla or John about it. I just hope they never hear about it.

* * *

School was far easier for Anne now that Josie Pye left her alone. Frank Pye had had some stern words with his wife and his daughter over the incident. As a family, they all enjoyed a joke, but it could go too far and then it ceased to be funny.

All Marilla and John ever knew about anything was that all of a sudden Anne seemed happier and more settled. Even her nightmares had abated.

* * *

* Hamlet  
* My daughter used to have these night terrors, let me tell you they are the creepiest things.


	20. Chapter 20

**Saints Preserve Us**

"... nine, ten, eleven, and Polly's husband, Clarence makes twelve. Just as well Rebecca and her lot aren't coming, it'll be tight as it is."

"Don't forget it'll be even more next year." John reminded her.

"The babies will be very welcome, and I doubt they'll be eating much turkey." Marilla smiled at the thought of their two grandchildren who were due to be born in the next few months. Having waited years for grandchildren, both Mary and Eliza were due in the next five months.

It was Christmas time. Almost the entire clan were converging on the Blythe house. Jack and Anne were being sent to Green Gables to sleep to make room for the older girls and their respective husbands.

Marilla had Anne helping with the preparations. Anne was used to being a skivvy at Christmas time. Her previous employers had been stressful to live with, but Marilla prepared for it in such a methodical and organized manner that it was quite enjoyable. Certainly, the house smelt delightful. A heady mix of dried fruit, sugar and spices permeated the whole house. Later a spruce tree lovingly decorated by Jack and Anne added to the blend, making for a jolly Christmassy aromatic mix.

On Christmas Eve Marilla presented Anne with her very first Christmas stocking to hang over the mantelpiece alongside Jack's. She assured Anne that Father Christmas would find her at Green Gables. Anne was dubious. Father Christmas had ignored her in the past, she didn't expect much from him this year either.

They heard Matthew knocking on the door and were bundled into the carriage for the ride over to Green Gables. Nancy welcomed the children in. It was great fun to be staying there instead of at the Blythe house. Nancy had made warm beds up for them both and showed them where to hang their Christmas stockings. Polly and Clarence were there too, Anne was introduced to them both.

"Uncle Matthew" Jack asked over a cup of cocoa, "can you tell us about Jamie?"

"Eh, what's that? Jamie? Haven't your parents told you about him?"

"Well yes they have, but not much. Ma just gets sad whenever I ask and walks away with tears in her eyes. What was wrong with him?"

"I don't think we'll ever really know what was wrong. He just didn't develop like normal, I guess. Let me think how to describe him to you both." Matthew lit his pipe and sat by the fire ruminating for a few minutes. "Jamie was a delightful little boy, always into mischief. He was fascinated by flame you know, but he never understood that it would cause him pain. Any candle, any stove, any fireplace was a danger to him, because he'd always stick his hand in there and then howl in pain but go back to do it again. He just never got it." Matthew paused for a moment, "And he didn't like wearing clothes much." Anne gasped, and Matthew looked up at her. "No, he took his clothes off any chance he got. Drove Marilla crazy, he even turned up here alone one day, stark naked."

"Oh, I bet Ma hated that."

Matthew smiled at the memory "Yes, I covered him with one of my shirts and took him home to Marilla who was frantically looking for him. And then, he loved milk."

"Milk?" asked Jack.

"Well mostly your mother's."

"But he was so old?"

"Yes. He also liked cow's milk, of course. I used to squirt it straight from the cow into his mouth. That was a little game we played. He didn't say much you know. Never got the knack of talking, but he was a smiley little fellow. We were all really cut up when he died so suddenly, your Ma most of all, of course. She feels guilty."

"Why would she feel guilty? What has she got to feel guilty about?"

"Mothers do, Jack." Nancy explained. "It's just what we do, we feel we never did enough. Losing a baby so young is such a tragedy, Jack. Marilla is always going to feel that it was her fault."

"But, but, that's not her fault. She's a wonderful mother."

"There really isn't any sense to it, Jack. She'll always feel some guilt about it, even if in her head she knows she has nothing to feel guilty about, in her heart she still feels that way. But for all that, he was the smilingest, happiest chap you know. He was always flinging himself around you for a hug and kissing you everywhere. He'd wave if he saw you out and about and blow kisses. He was a joy to have around." Matthew took out his handkerchief and blew his nose and wiped his eyes.

"Well off to bed the both of you, it's a big day tomorrow. And you know someone special is coming to visit tonight."

"I doubt he'll be visiting me." Anne said forlornly.

Nancy smiled at Matthew as they watched Anne walk up the stairs, Matthew winked back at her. They had an inkling she'd be happy in the morning.

* * *

The snow was falling thick and fast in the morning. The low sky was full of big, fluffy, white flakes blanketing the house and its surrounds. Jack knocked on Anne's door softly and waited while she put her dressing gown on. They tip-toed downstairs to find their Christmas stockings full of little treats. They sat down by the still warm stove to compare loot. Jack was happy with his haul, but Anne was delighted. "Do you know I've never received a Christmas stocking before Jack. The children would get them, but never me."

"Anne that's so awful."

"Yes, I don't know why Father Christmas ignored me, but he always did. Mrs Hammond told me I was too badly behaved. Father Christmas doesn't deliver treats to naughty children."

"Well what did he give you today?"

"Let's see, I've got an orange, some nuts, some colourful yarn and a piece of cotton for embroidery. Look at this yarn Jack, aren't they beautiful colours?"

"They are, you could make something very pretty with that, I reckon."

"What else is there? Oh, look a pretty green ribbon."

"That would look very nice in your hair." Jack said shyly. He'd never thought of how pretty Anne was until that very moment.

Jack had received some marbles, and other assorted things. He was happy with his lot, but even happier to witness Anne's reaction.

They heard Nancy and their Uncle Matthew stirring, Jack went out to fetch some more wood for the stove and fireplaces. Anne put her new ribbon in her hair and then filled the kettle to put on the stove.

"Merry Christmas, Nancy." She greeted her 'aunt' as she came down the stairs.

"Merry Christmas, Anne. Did Father Christmas bring you anything? Ah, is that a new ribbon I spy?"

Anne twirled around to show Nancy.

"It really matches your hair, Anne."

Both houses reunited at church that morning. Anne and Jack ran over to Marilla and John to show off their presents. Anne was particularly excited about her new ribbon, Marilla was pleased to see. Anne and Jack were involved in the Christmas Nativity, Diana Barry played the part of Mary while Fred Wright played Joseph. Anne and Jack had lesser roles, but they stood up proudly as their family looked on, remembering earlier nativities in which they themselves had taken part. Everything went off without a hitch, even the donkey behaved itself.

Back at home later that day, the house was full of people. Eliza and Mary had grilled their parents about Anne and her place within the family. Marilla and John explained that Anne was going to live with them now, they had as good as adopted her and planned to bring her up. The older girls were incredulous, but seeing how adamant their parents were, and knowing how stubborn their mother could be, backed off when they saw they were getting nowhere.

When the carriage arrived from Green Gables Eliza and Mary greeted their uncle and aunt and little brother and cousin, Polly and her husband enthusiastically. They were more reserved with Anne. For her part, Anne greeted them politely. She didn't know these women and felt their disapproval emanating off them. Marilla was very protective though and did her best to make Anne feel part of the family.

Before lunch was served there were more presents to distribute. Anne had already spied a few parcels under the tree and couldn't help but notice that two of them seemed to be for her. Marilla passed a large parcel over to her with a smile that lit up her face. "I hope you like it, Anne."

Anne wanted to tear off the wrapping, but the paper was so pretty that she didn't want to ruin it. Instead she untied the string and gently opened the parcel. Gasping she saw another layer of tissue paper and under that some patterned green material. She glanced up at Marilla with a large smile on her face and looked back down at the parcel. It was a dress, but not just any dress, this one was made green thick warm cotton, with beading down the chest and puffed sleeves. Anne held it up, speechless. She stared at the dress and back at Marilla, her mouth a perfect circle.

"Actually, it was John's idea, Anne. He thought you needed a new dress all of your own, rather than hand me downs."

Anne had never been quite sure of John's feelings for her, but now she knew he loved her. She walked over to him and kissed his cheek murmuring a heartfelt "Thank you". John just sat there looking at this girl with her new dress.

"I think you had better go and put it on, don't you Anne? You can get changed in our room," Marilla offered.

The girl who walked downstairs seemed older than the one who had walked up. Something had shifted for Anne. She was a little girl no more, but rather a young woman. She looked older, more confident. As though the dress represented the love the Blythes felt for her. The dress represented her new family. She felt centered wearing it.

The family watched her descend and the new way she walked. She seemed lighter, happier. John opened his arms and she fell into them, and they hugged. Just quietly hugged, no words needed. Marilla looked on fondly.

Other people had been opening gifts while Anne was changing, and it was her turn to open her next present. This one was from Matthew and Nancy. Again, it was wrapped in pretty paper, so she untied the ribbon and found a beautiful writing book and a pen.

"Marilla told us you liked to write, Anne. I thought you might like a book for all your ideas." Matthew explained. The normally voluble Anne ran out of words. She merely walked over to Matthew and Nancy for another hug.

For his part Jack was delighted with his gift, namely _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer_ by Mark Twain which had only been published that year. He couldn't wait to get stuck into it.

Dinner was a loud affair. The food was all delicious, including a turkey John had butchered and a plum pudding Marilla, and Anne, had baked a couple of months prior. Talk turned to impending grandchildren, and how different things would be next year with babies to care for.

Anne was rather pleased to be staying at the relatively quiet Green Gables that night. She was exhausted, and the grown-ups would be staying up late chatting. For her part she needed time to process the day's events. Hugging Marilla and John farewell for the night, she climbed into Matthew's buggy for the ride back to Green Gables.

* * *

One clear day after Christmas, Diana and Anne planned to go exploring. Anne had noticed a track through the woods and wondered where it led to. She made up story as they walked along, nothing too scary, because she didn't want to spook them, but a story of dashing knights and daring princesses. As the story was winding to a close, she could see a thin thread of smoke through the trees. "Who lives there Diana?" Anne enquired.

"I don't know. I didn't know anyone lived here." Diana replied. "It's pretty far from anywhere."

"Maybe it's a witch? Maybe that's a gingerbread house?" Anne joked.

"Shush Anne, we weren't going to scare ourselves, remember."

The girls looked around, it certainly looked like a witch's house. It was completely hemmed in by trees of all shapes and sizes. There seemed to be animals standing around too. Anne pointed out a fox which stood still, too still, by the front door. Its red tail was hanging limply, and its eyes were dull. "What's that fox doing there, Di? You'd think it would run away."

The front door opened and both girls jumped.

"Good afternoon, what might you two being doing here?" A tall woman with long greying hair in a plait, weathered cheeks, dark brown, almost black eyes and very bushy eyebrows greeted them. She reminded Anne of a horse for some reason.

"W-we j-just c-came f-for a-a w-walk, er ma'am." Stuttered a frightened Anne, "and we found your house in this clearing. "W-what is that f-fox doing there?"

"Simon? He's just standing around. I have lots of pets like him. Would you like to come and meet them?"

The girls nodded, they were still frightened, but they figured they were the match of any old woman. If anything untoward happened inside, they'd make a dash for it. This was Avonlea, not some European forest such as they'd read about in Han Christian Anderson's fairy tales.

Cautiously the girls followed the lady into the house. "Please ma'am what is your name?" Anne asked curiously.

"I'm Miss Adelaide Montmorency. What are your names?"

"I'm Diana Barry."

"And I'm Anne Shirley." added Anne.

"Shirley? Never heard of any Shirley's on the Island. Are you from around here?"

"No, I'm not. I was adopted by John and Marilla Blythe."

"Ah, the Blythe's. Is Marilla Blythe's brother Matthew still rattling around? I named one of my pets after Matthew Cuthbert." Miss Montmorency pointed at a raccoon in the corner. "There he is." The girls followed her finger and saw a raccoon also standing stock still, its face in a weird grimace with blank staring eyes.

"Um, Miss Montmorency, are your pets … are they … are they dead?"

"They're stuffed, was it Anne you said your name was? I practice taxidermy in my spare time."

"Taxidermy? What's that?" Diana asked nervously.

"I take animals that have passed over and bring them back to life. Do you think they look alive still? You thought Simon was alive, didn't you?"

They didn't, they thought Simon looked very strange standing so very still outside the front door.

"Um, yes, Simon looks very lifelike." Anne replied, ignoring Diana's look of incredulity, trying to be polite.

"And there's Luke, my mink. Folks said I should have turned him into a fur stole, can you imagine? What a waste. He's much nicer here with me. I never feel lonely with all my pets around."

Diana noticed a theme with their names. "Miss Montmorency, do you name all your pets after the saints?"

"Well noticed, Diana. Yes, I do. They're good dependable names. They suit my pets, don't you think?" She walked past a fox oddly crowned with a pair of antlers. "This is Peter. I thought he looked more regal with antlers. In fact, when I see a fox outside without antlers I think they look almost naked."

The whole house was stuffed with these creepy dead, stuffed animals. Every wall had mounted heads and there were stuffed animals in every corner of the parlour and a few in the middle too.

"I've just started stuffing birds, see." Miss Montmorency pointed up at an eagle suspended from the ceiling. "See he's in flight, just as he should be."

"What is his name, Miss Montmorency?"

"He's John. You know the winter is the best time for it, I keep any corpse I find frozen in the cellar, until I have time to prepare them."

"Prepare them?" Anne felt faint. She had half forgotten that these objects had once been real live creatures running through the forest.

"Oh, yes, that's half the fun. Do you want to know how I go about it?"

"No thank you." replied Diana.

"Are you sure, it's quite fascinating. First I…"

"Ah, no that's fine, thank you so much Miss Montmorency. I think we had better be getting home, don't you Di? Our parents will be looking for us. Good bye" The girls backed out of the parlour and once out of the house ran out of earshot. Panting, they stopped a few hundred yards away. "Oh my God, Di. What was that?"

"I don't know, that was the strangest thing I've ever seen."

They made their way back to civilization as quickly as possible and determined never to walk that way again. Or at least Diana did. Anne was still quite curious, maybe she'd bring Jack by for a visit one day.

* * *

Over dinner that night she told Marilla, John and Jack about her adventure.

"Did you see Matthew, Anne?" Marilla asked.

"Matthew the raccoon? Yes, I did. I prefer the human version. Do you know Miss Montmorency then?"

"Adelaide Montmorency? I haven't seen her for years. She was always rather eccentric. Sounds like she hasn't changed, or maybe she's even more unusual."

"It was a very creepy house, Marilla. All those blank eyes staring at you. I don't think I could stand it for long."

"Do you think you'll go back?"

"Well she is a great source of creative inspiration. I've started writing stories in my new notebook. Maybe I'll write one about her one day."

* * *

I once met a Scottish guy at a French wedding who had an otter sporran. It was road kill. He took it to a taxidermist who asked what expression he wanted for the eyes. He decided on shocked, for obvious reasons.


	21. Chapter 21

**Be Fruitful and Multiply**

An owl hooting nearby woke John up. He reached his arm out to touch his wife, but when he found a cold bed, he remembered that Marilla and Anne had travelled to Kingsport to help Mary and her husband George with the new baby. John hoped they would have a nice time. Marilla, naturally, was excited to witness the birth of her first grandchild.

Try as he might, John could not get back to sleep. He lay in bed thinking about the chores he had planned for that day. He planned to get Jack to help him. It would be pruning time soon, the shears always needed oiling after the cold dry winter.

John smiled as he thought about his father's investment in the strawberry apple trees all those years ago. They had been an extravagance, but one that had paid off many times since. John vaguely recalled his mother's reaction when his father had spent so much money on the seedlings, she had not been impressed. Much like Jack's mother when he brought home the magic beans. His father had been wise though, the apple trees still produced delicious apples after all this time.

Sleep still eluded him. He settled in for a muse. He missed his wife when she was not around. Not only was the bed cold, but he missed the sound of her breathing and curling up are und her warm body. There was no doubt in his mind that he was a happy man. Sure, Marilla could be impetuous, taking in Anne had been rash perhaps. But he loved her for it. She had a big heart, his gorgeous wife. He could not reproach her for that. She was a wonderful mother, the girls had grown up into competent young women, Jack was doing well and now she was relishing a new challenge with Anne. Nothing she could do would ever be as much work as Jamie had been, he imagined.

He thought about how lucky he was. Three, no four, wonderful children, he always had a pang when he minded Jamie, and now the very sweet Anne. He felt she was really relaxing around them now. It was true he had been sad to think that Jamie might be his only son, but now he had Jack to help him out on the farm, which was indeed a blessing. He wasn't as young as he used to be, he was about to be a grandfather after all. It made him feel old.

* * *

"Ooh. Ohhh. Bfff bfff."

"Just breathe darling. Breathe through the pain. You're doing wonderfully."

"ArrrfgGHH! ArrgghhhhHHHH!"

"That's the way. Scream all you like."

Had she been like this? Marilla pondered. She had travelled over to see Mary in Kingsport when the baby was due. There was something rather magical about becoming a grandmother. Worry of course, that something might go wrong; but also wonder watching the whole thing unfold, and at seeing your own baby become a mother.

Marilla had brought Anne with her, thinking it would be a nice interlude and that she would love to meet the new baby. Mary greeted Anne hesitatingly. She had assumed Marilla would leave Anne back at Green Gables and come to spend some time with her daughter. Now she had to share her mother's attention with this new girl. Mary knew it was unchristian, but she was jealous.

After what seemed an eternity, and for the first time Marilla watched as a new life entered the world, all slithery and messy. If you stopped to think about it, it really was a wonder. She had never witnessed it, had only been the one pushing up the other end, but to see the head, with wet, black, downy hair emerge from between Mary's thighs was a miraculous sight.

Afterwards, as the nurse delivered the afterbirth and tidied Mary up, Marilla got to hold little Constance Grace, named after Marilla's mother, in her arms all wrapped in a blanket. The tiny slip of humanity reminded her of all her babies, born and not born. When Mary was ready she handed Constance over and watched as she rooted for the nipple for the first time. Mother and babe contentedly bonding, George standing by proudly.

* * *

On hearing the screams Anne was transported back to Mrs Hammond's laboring. Anne had been expected to help deliver the babies. Mrs Hammond labored noisily, screaming out all her frustrations at Anne and Mr Hammond, but Anne was not allowed any peace. She had to stay with Mrs Hammond for over twenty hours, as she ranted and railed at God and the universe. Eventually Anne caught the baby and then heard Mrs Hammond going again, just when they thought it was all over. Twins. And she did it all again - twice.

After yet another heart-rending scream Anne fled. George didn't notice her leave and wondered briefly where she had got to when he turned around, but he was too intent on the goings on behind the door to take much notice.

With the cessation of screams a loud cry rang out informing George that it was all over, the door opened to admit him into the female sanctum. "Where's Anne?" asked Marilla as she handed the baby over.

"I'm not sure, I think she disappeared a while ago. I haven't seen her since."

Marilla strode out, intent on finding her. She wasn't concerned, but she thought Anne would like to meet the baby. She was worried fifteen minutes later however as Anne did not reply to her calls and was nowhere to be found. Eventually, having looked everywhere Marilla curled up beside the privy.

"Anne. Anne. Anne!"

There was no response. Marilla knelt down to touch her on the shoulder, Anne flinched.

"Anne." More gently this time. "What's wrong Anne?"

Still no response. Marilla was torn, she desperately wanted to be back in the birthing room with the new baby and her mother, but she couldn't leave Anne here, in an obvious state of distress. Anne had curled into a little ball as if she wanted to make herself invisible and she was rocking back and forth, moaning.

Marilla sat down. If the birthing room was an impossibility, she at least needed to get Anne out of the noisome privy. What was she to do? She didn't want to traumatize the child further, but they did have to move. Marilla stood up and held out her hand, "Anne come with me, you don't have to see the baby if you don't want to. Come now."

For her part Anne heard Marilla's firm voice dimly as though she was underwater, so deep into her distress was she. Eventually she did hear the commanding tone of Marilla's voice and she obediently stood up and walked out the door. They walked back into the house and Marilla led Anne to their bedroom. Pulling back the covers she pressed Anne to sit and knelt down to unlace her boots. Anne lay down and Marilla placed the blankets over her. "I will return shortly Anne" she promised and made her way back to Mary.

"Where have you been Mama?"

"The privy."

Marilla spent some more time with Mary, marveling at the small, perfectly formed baby. She had a good set of lungs on her, and they put her to her mother's breast and heaved a collective sigh of relief as the noise stopped when the baby latched. Mary looked exhausted. "I'll leave you to it for a while," Marilla announced, and she walked out if the room somewhat exhausted herself, but knowing she had somewhere else to be.

She found Anne precisely where she had left her. Curled up in the bed, only now the blankets were over her head. Marilla lay down on the bed beside her and started just gently talking to her. She didn't know precisely what was wrong, but it was apparent the child was very, very frightened. She just started by telling Anne how safe she was, how Marilla would never let her be hurt again. She reached out one hand to where she thought Anne's shoulder might be located under the covers. Anne did not flinch this time. Marilla took off her shoes and climbed under the covers, gathering Anne into her arms she hugged the thin body to her. Anne felt safe enough to sob gently into her chest. Marilla did not speak, she just rubbed Anne's back comfortingly. Eventually Anne fell asleep in her arms.

Marilla's arms were going to sleep, so she shifted the slumbering Anne over to the other side of the bed. She was worried about her, but felt she needed to take it slow. If Anne didn't want to see the baby in the morning, Marilla wouldn't force her. She had planned to stay a week or so with Mary, but that looked unlikely at this stage, something Mary would not be happy about, Marilla had no doubt.

Mary's reaction was precisely as expected. "You're going home already Mama? Just because Anne's afraid of my baby? I think that's very unfair. What about me, don't you love me anymore? You love this red headed nobody more than me!"

"Now, now, Mary, that's not true at all. Anne is not coping here. I'll just take her home and I'll be back to care for you in a week or so."

"Or so? Or so! If you leave, don't bother coming back at all. It's apparent where your loyalties lie." Mary exclaimed dramatically.

Marilla looked at her distraught daughter, in some distress herself. There really was no easy way out of this. The only solution that she could see was to either put Anne on the train by herself or ask John to come and fetch her home to Avonlea. At least if John came he could meet the baby. On the other hand, that would delay her departure as they waited for a letter to get through.

Suddenly she had an epiphany, Alice Bartram wasn't far away, perhaps Anne could go and stay there?

* * *

"Thank you, Alice. I just had to get Anne out of here."

"Why what's up? What happened?"

"She does not like babies, or watching them be born, it would appear. I found her in quite a state out in the privy."

"Hiding?"

"Yes."

"Goodness. And then what?"

"Well, after l got her into a bed she hid under the covers and cried herself to sleep."

"Has she seen the baby? Goodness tell me about the baby?" Alice exclaimed.

"A girl, Constance Grace. She's beautiful. But I don't think Anne can stay there. Understandably Mary is upset with me." Explained Marilla.

"I'm sure. But you had to bring Anne to a safe place."

"Can she stay here for a few days?"

"Naturally. I might introduce her to Martha."

Alice sent word to Martha to come and visit, she needed her help. Anne seemed like a sweet little thing, but she felt Martha might identify with her as no one else could.

Martha and her daughter Ann duly arrived at the Bartram house and were admitted. Alice drew them into the parlour to describe the situation finishing with "so, if you could take Anne for a walk, Martha, I would appreciate it. I'll look after Ann, we can have a look at some picture books."

Alice ran upstairs to fetch Anne and brought her down to introduce her.

* * *

Strolling along the street, Martha glanced down at Anne's startling red hair, it really was magnificent, though she gathered the child was not fond of it, if her hairstyle was anything to go by. "Mrs Bartram tells me you do not like babies."

"It's not babies as such Mrs er"

"You may call me Martha."

"Martha. It's just…" Anne trailed off, it was hard to put into words.

"Have you been present at other births, Anne?"

Anne nodded.

"Did you know I was a home girl too, Anne?"

Anne shot her a look of incredulity.

"Yes, I was an orphan, my parents died when I was little. I spent some years at the Hopetown Asylum, and with a family, and then I was lucky enough to be sent to Mrs Bartram. Come, here's a nice café, let's have cake."

"You were at Hopeless?" Anne said after they had sat down. The café was cosy, but Anne was oblivious to their surrounds, so interested in the woman in front of her was she.

"Ha ha, they still call it Hopeless do they? Yes, I was stuck there for a few years. What a ghastly place."

Anne nodded.

"How long were you there, Anne?"

"Not long, I lived with a couple of families and when they no longer wanted me, I moved to Hopeless for a bit, then to the Blewetts. Mrs Blythe rescued me from there."

"Where did you see babies being born?"

"At the Hammonds. I lived with them from six to ten. She had three sets of twins."

"Three! Oh, my goodness, and you delivered them all?"

Anne nodded.

"You were just a baby yourself."

"Yes."

"That's the worst thing about being an orphan, being deprived of a childhood. Ah, here's some cake."

A waitress set down a couple of plates of chocolate cake with whipped cream and a cup of tea for them both.

Martha watched Anne eat the cake, as she sipped her tea. "So, listening to Mrs Blythe's daughter laboring took you back there, I suppose?"

"Yes, I could just hear Mrs Hammond cursing at me and the world, there was no joy in it. And I knew, after the first time, just what it represented, more work for me."

"That wouldn't be the case this time, Mrs Blythe doesn't want you to look after this baby."

"No, I suppose not. But I couldn't bear to be around them, all the same. It makes me sad."

"Sad? How so?"

"Maybe I won't want to ever want have children."

"I'm sure, once you're old enough, Anne, it will be different.

* * *

Later that day Martha relayed Anne's concerns to Marilla. "When she was just a baby herself, she was forced to deliver Mrs Hammond's babies, all six of them. I believe it was a frightening time for her, and of course she was just a child herself. Now she is worried she won't want to ever have children."

"Mary couldn't help herself."

"Of course not, nor should she. But Anne desperately did not want to be back near a labouring woman."

"Perhaps I should leave her at home next month, when it is Eliza's turn." Marilla suggested.

"I think that would be wise." Martha agreed.

Marilla talked it over first with Alice and then Anne. "I won't force you into this situation again, Anne. I'm so sorry I did this to you."

"It's not your fault Marilla. I didn't know myself until I heard Mary. I just had to get away, I couldn't bear it. And now ..." tears came to her eyes.

"Now?"

"Now I'm afraid I'll hate my own babies when the time comes."

"I'm pretty sure that won't be the case, darling. It will be dissimilar, you'll be an adult and I'll be there to help you. I know only too well how important it is to have help with children. You have me now Anne. I won't be leaving you alone. It will be so different, I can promise you. Don't think those early babies will have ruined the experience for you. I know you have plenty of love."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure of it, darling. You won't be having babies for many years yet and when you do you will be ready for them and you will be smitten."

* * *

 **Chicken Whisper,** you are correct. This Anne does know what sex is, even if ordinarily children back then did not. She has been exposed to it before her time. She does not know that it can be a beautiful thing, she only sees the devastating aftermath. She has not experienced it herself. Mr Hammond died before he could molest her, thankfully.


	22. Chapter 22

For **Iza.**

* * *

 **The Serpent's Tooth**

"Damn!"

"John Blythe!"

"Sorry for cussing Mar. It's just…"

"Just what, I can't think of any reason to swear?"

John merely showed the letter he was reading to his wife, pointing at the second sentence.

"Blast!"

He grinned.

"Can we put her off? She can't wait for an invitation at least?"

"Well she knows she won't get one, so she's invited herself."

"When is she arriving then?" Marilla enquired.

"Friday week."

"We had better warn the children. They'll have to be on their best behaviour," Marilla shook her head. John's cousin Mary Maria Blythe was a pain in the neck. Thankfully Marilla had not had many occasions to spar with her over the years, but the few times they had met had not gone well. John did better at placating her, but Marilla could never put up with the petty sniping that was Mary Maria's preferred communication style.

* * *

Mary Maria Blythe was never sure what her cousin John saw in Marilla Cuthbert. She had always thought her an odd woman and not really up to the Blythe standard. Her opinion had not improved all those years ago when the foolish woman insisted on keeping their cretin at home instead of putting him in an institution where he so obviously belonged.

Mary Maria had only met Jamie the once and that was one more time than she was comfortable with. The child had quite flung himself into her arms and she was forced to hug him close lest he fall. She hadn't wanted to, mind, but felt it would be bad form to merely let him drop. Worse still he kissed her right on the mouth with his big sloppy lips. It was disgusting and when someone, perhaps John, had rescued her, she had to beg leave to tidy herself up in her bedroom, washing the spittle off her lips with a shudder. It made her dry retch to think of it even now.

* * *

The following Friday she duly arrived in a cloud of perfume, jet black earrings and high boned net collar on her lean throat. Jack and Anne stood to attention as she strode into the house.

Anne had been warned about Mary Maria. Jack had filled her in the night before. "She may be my aunt, Anne, but she's pretty mean. Ma can't stand her. I mean she won't say anything, cos she's too polite. But just you watch her when Aunt Mary Maria is around."

"What about John? Does he like her?"

"No, he doesn't either. But at least he can escape out to the barn."

"She can't be as bad as all that."

"Just you wait, Anne. Just you wait."

* * *

Marilla introduced the children to their aunt. "You know Jack of course."

Mary Maria attempted to look down her nose at him, but as Jack was now taller than her, she found it quite difficult to manage, though the effect was the same. Jack always felt like a small bug under her gaze.

"And this," continued Marilla "is our new charge, Anne Shirley."

"I had heard you had taken on a girl, Marilla," said Mary Maria looking at Anne as she might look at a gnat, "but I thought you might have picked a pretty one at least." So far, she had not looked Anne in the eyes and only spoke about her in the third person. Marilla smiled at Anne encouragingly.

Mary Maria swept past Anne and Jack as Marilla showed her to her room. Mary Maria looked around, immediately spying the flowers Anne had placed there to brighten the room up. "No, this won't do at all. For starters, remove those," she said pointing at the vase. "I despise most blooms and those mayflowers give me terrible hayfever, _atishoo_ " she gave a tiny, rather fake, sneeze. "Whose idea were they, pray?"

Anne strode forward, but Marilla interjected saying "Oh I had forgotten about your hayfever Mary Maria, my apologies. I thought the flowers might provide some lovely colour for the room. We'll just leave you for a moment to get settled. Tea will be ready in five minutes."

Marilla backed out of the room with the vase in her hand and ran into Anne. "I shouldn't let you take the blame for the flowers, Marilla," Anne confessed.

"No, that's perfectly fine. Anne. I'm better able to deal with her than you are. Did she look at you at all?"

"Not really," Anne replied forlornly.

"Don't complain about it, Anne," Jack commented "it's better if she ignores you. She never has anything nice to say about anyone."

"Anne come and help me with the tea things. We'll have it in the parlor.

Mary Maria continued to ignore Anne. She spoke to Jack, asking him about his studies and what his plans were beyond school. Anne sat on the couch next to Marilla, sipping her tea and nibbling on a piece of cake.

Marilla attempted to tell Mary Maria something about Anne, but Mary Maria refused to listen, rudely interrupting and continuing to chat to Jack alone. It was as if Anne wasn't there. "I'll just take the tray to the kitchen, Marilla," Anne announced after the teapot was finished.

"Does she call you Marilla? _sniff_ How impertinent."

"I told her to, Mary Maria," explained Marilla, wearily.

"And does she call John by his first name too?"

"She does."

"Humph! Well it's all very odd, I must say. I'm going to my room to lie down for a while. Travelling tires me out. If you were any sort of hostess, you would have offered that time to me beforehand. I see I shall have to look out for myself here. You must be too busy with two children now, Marilla." With that Mary Maria stomped off to her room. No doubt she'd be complaining about the mattress in due course.

Mary Maria found fault with the house, the acreage, the buggy, the horse, dinner, breakfast, lunch. Her mattress was in the miraculous state of being simultaneously too hard, too soft and lumpy to boot. The constant litany of complaints was beginning to wear Marilla down. "I almost wish I hadn't cleaned in anticipation," Marilla said with a sigh that evening in bed. "It seems so pointless if all she's going to do is find fault anyway."

"As if you wouldn't clean before a guest, any guest came to visit, Mar," John replied as he hugged her.

* * *

Marilla ran down to Rachel's the next morning on a false pretext. She just needed to vent her spleen to a willing listener.

"She really is the end, Rachel. I swear she would find fault with the Good Lord above, I see her tracing her finger tips over my cabinets. As if I don't dust regularly."

Rachel nodded, letting her friend rail without interruption. It wasn't often Marilla needed to talk like this.

"And she complains about every little thing, she has this tiny sniff she gives when something disagrees with her. It's exasperating."

"How is she with Anne?" Rachel enquired.

"She hasn't acknowledged her existence yet. Poor Anne, she deserves better," Marilla cradled her head in her hands. "I don't know how long I can put up with her. John says we must be kind, she has no one else."

"I'm sure I can't think why?" Rachel muttered in response.

"But he escapes out to the barn, I'm the one left to deal with all her nasty asides and back handed compliments."

"Shall I come to tea, take the weight off you?"

"Would you? Please do, I need some help." Marilla gratefully accepted a cup of tea from her good friend.

* * *

As promised Rachel came to afternoon tea. As it was a nice warm day, Marilla decided to serve tea outside on the lawn in the dappled shade of an lilac tree. She could tell that Mary Maria did not approve, which made it all the more beguiling. The children had been tidying up the garden in preparation. Jack begged leave to go and help his father in the barn, but Anne was happy to help Marilla. She had baked a cake under Marilla's watchful eye. The now iced cake sat on a plate, looking particularly delicious.

Rachel and Mary Maria sat in the afternoon sunshine as Marilla and Anne pottered about in the kitchen getting the tea things ready. Anne lifted the carefully prepared cake onto the cake stand and stood back to admire it briefly. "Very nice, Anne. I'm sure it will be delicious."

Anne was never quite sure what happened when she tried to carefully carry her freshly baked cake out to the garden, along the way somehow she managed to trip over her feet and as though she was in slow motion, she could feel herself tipping over. She let out a small scream as she hit the floor with a tremendous crash. There was a all too brief moment in time when Marilla thought she might be able to save the situation, time seemed to be going in slow motion; if she could just get there there in time she could catch the plate, but she moved with infinite slowness too and arrived at the right spot a split second too late. She watched in horror as Anne stumbled and fell, landing with a thump on the floor, the cake and plate smashed to smithereens in an arc away from her body. Afterwards as she cleaned up the rest of the mess she marvelled at quite how far the cake had flown. Indeed for days after she continued to find little shards of china in the most unlikely of places.

"Is everything all right?" Rachel called out.

"Just a little mishap in here. Give us a few minutes," Marilla called back as she surveyed the damage.

The cake was ruined of course. Marilla had some other treats in the pantry which would have to do. Worse really was Anne's dress and her sense of pride. Plus, it looked as though she had cut herself on the broken plate as she fell.

Anne sat up and burst into tears. Marilla bent over to help her up and tried to placate her, though she was mystified as to how it had happened. "Come now, we'll get you cleaned up Anne, it's just a cake. She sat Anne down on the kitchen bench and stemmed the blood which was now streaming from the cut above her eye. Pressing a clean rag to Anne's forehead Marilla called out that they would be a bit longer.

* * *

Judging by the noise within, the two ladies out in the garden assumed that tea would be a while yet. Mary Maria took the opportunity to probe Rachel about the Anne situation.

"What is Marilla thinking, taking on this child, Mrs Lynde? I thought she was mad enough all those years ago with Jamie, and now this? Do you understand it?"

"Anne is part of the family now Miss Blythe. She's a sweet little thing and she's getting on very well."

"The girls told me there was some upset when Mary had her baby? Something about her running away? Mary was quite put out about where Marilla's loyalties lay?"

"Well yes there was, but that's all sorted now I believe."

"Did Marilla take her along when Eliza gave birth?"

"No, Anne was quite upset by Mary's labouring."

"Hated to share the attention, I suppose."

Rachel gave Mary Maria a hard look, "No I believe she was forced to help her previous employer give birth to three lots of twins when she was barely a baby herself. Unsurprisingly she was rather traumatised by the experience."

"Why did Marilla take her then?"

"Even Anne was unaware that she would react so. She is just a child, you understand. Miss Blythe, what you have to understand is that Anne came from a troubled background."

"Troubled! How bad could it be, here on Prince Edward Island?"

"I don't know the particulars, but I believe it was pretty awful. Her parents died when she was just a baby and she's been in service ever since. It was Jack who first spied her, and Marilla took pity, as any Christian should do," Rachel fixed Mary Maria with a stern look. "She really was in a bad way when she first came here, Marilla told me she was covered in bruises. I admit I had my misgivings, but with love and good food she is really blossoming. I hate to think what her fate might have been had she stayed where she was?"

"I'm sure you're exaggerating."

"Now you listen here, Miss Blythe, John and Marilla are good Christian folk, they have taken in Anne with all her problems and are treating her as their own. What would you have them do when they saw a poor mistreated child in their midst? Leave her there? When Anne arrived she had a sprained ankle from being shoved down some stairs, who knows what other abuses she may have endured had they left her there? I don't like to speak so plainly, but I must speak my mind. I won't have you making any... " Mary Maria looked shocked at Rachel's harsh words. "don't make that face, you know you are the mistress of snide comments."

"Humph. I always knew Marilla was the queen of lost causes. When I think back…"

"Shh," hushed Rachel. "Don't let the family hear you speak that way. You'll be cast out in a trice."

"Where is our afternoon tea, I'm thirsty," Mary Maria sounded petulant as she changed the subject.

"Seems there must have been an accident inside, if the noise was anything to go by."

"Maybe I'll just see if I can lend some assistance?"

"I'm sure they'd prefer we just stayed outside," Rachel was sure Marilla would prefer to avoid Mary Maria's brand of aid. "I'm just going to sit here and enjoy the sunshine, summer lasts such a short time as it is."

Mary Maria looked at her as if she were mad, but stayed put.

When Marilla finally arrived with the tea tray both women were sitting in stony silence in the shade, angled away from each other so they didn't have to meet the others gaze. Sensing a strained mood, Marilla brightly enquired "Everything all right here, ladies?"

"Quite all right," Rachel replied.

"I would have thought Anne would carry the tray out for you Marilla," Mary Maria retorted when she saw her host struggling under the weight. Rachel got up to help, but Mary Maria sat where she was and watched the other ladies as they laid out the food. "Where is Anne anyway?" Mary Maria enquired.

Placing the tray down, Marilla remarked "Anne had an accident with the cake, she's just gone up to change."

"Oh, I do hope she is all right?" Rachel exclaimed.

"She cut her head on the plate, but I've bandaged it up and she should be fine."

"How on earth did she manage that? Is she always so clumsy, Marilla?" Mary Maria asked nastily.

"No, not as a general rule. I'm not sure what happened exactly. May have been nerves I suppose, and she was so proud of the cake. I wish you'd seen it Rachel, it did look pretty."

* * *

Mary Maria stayed for another week, she was as annoying as ever, but to give her her due, she heeded Rachel's words and bit her tongue on the Anne situation. She still thought Marilla was insane for keeping Annie as she called her, much to Anne's disgust. One day she deigned to address Anne to her face. They were sitting in the parlour by the fire, Marilla was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. "You've fallen on your feet, Annie," Mary Maria commented.

"Yes, I'm very lucky Miss Blythe." Jack of course called her Aunt, but Anne felt it unlikely she would be given the same right.

"Mind you behave yourself around this kind family. You don't want to be sent back for poor behaviour."

"Se-nt ba-ck?" stuttered Anne who had never considered it before.

"Why yes, Marilla Blythe is a stickler for good behaviour, if you're naughty they might just send you back to the asylum instead. I'm sure she must have been rather annoyed about the cake the other day. So watch yourself."

"Oh, I will. Thank you," Anne was shocked, such an outcome had never crossed her mind before. The Blythe family had welcomed her in with open arms, and she was finally beginning to relax around them, and now Miss Blythe had delivered this blow to her confidence. She believed she would have to behave herself from now on.

* * *

After ten days to everyone's relief, Mary Maria announced that it was time she left, her own home was beckoning. Avonlea was too noisy and busy for her tender nerves.

"Thank you for your wonderful hospitality John and ... _sniff_ Marilla," she said after a small pause. As though John had looked after her beautifully and Marilla were the hired help. "I'm sure I will return one day."

Marilla, Jack and Anne waved the carriage farewell with a sense of relief. "Thank goodness she's gone," muttered Marilla under her breath. Anne watched the disappearing carriage, then offered to help Marilla with the housework; thinking she had better pull her weight around the house, lest she be sent away.


End file.
